After Effect
by kc404duh
Summary: No one knew Draco had a daughter, but due to unfortunate circumstances surrounding the end of the War he'll have to bring her to school for his eighth year. Perhaps a bit of innocence can help to open eyes.
1. Chapter 1

_This is quite an unusual one, but I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you guys will enjoy reading it just as much. :)_

_As before, this story is complete. I'll update every few days. Hopefully FFN won't have a bitch fit and postpone updates longer than need be!_

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

Chapter One

Despite the fact that he loved his daughter more than anything in the world, Draco was not terribly excited to bring her to Hogwarts for his 'make-up' seventh year. Regardless of the added responsibilities, he was sure there would be plenty of ridicule and whispering. He just hoped no one would attempt to hurt Carina; if they did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep from resorting to drastic measures.

Carina had been a well-kept secret for two years. Not a soul in the Wizarding world, save the parents' families, knew of the Malfoy child. It had been during the Christmas holidays of his fifth year that Draco had knocked up a pretty French girl during a family trip. The girl, Emilie, had informed him of her condition two and a half months later. In September of his sixth year, their daughter had been born. She'd stayed with her mother in France, visiting the Manor every once in a while to see her father and paternal grandparents. The prospect of a daughter had been a great weight on Draco's shoulders along with his mission from the Dark Lord.

Two weeks after Carina's first birthday, Emilie had died of cancer. It was a shock for Draco, but he didn't know quite how to feel about it. He hadn't loved her. He'd been in the middle of a War.

Emilie's parents had (resentfully) taken care of Carina for the remainder of the War.

Afterward, Draco had been freed from conviction due to Potter's appeals in court. He'd not done the same for Lucius, who had then been transferred to Azkaban. Narcissa had perished only a few days after the imprisonment of her husband due to what the Healers called "Severe Post-Traumatic Stress," but Draco thought it had mostly to do with his father.

Carina went to live with her father in Wiltshire near the middle of July once all charges had officially been cleared. Draco had planned to send her back to her grandparents in France in September when school began again, but was met with outrage and loathing. They'd been unwilling to care for the daughter of the man who had ruined their daughter's life. They blamed her death on him.

He was left with a nearly-three-year-old daughter, an upcoming school year, no parental figures, and no one to care for her.

He'd done the only thing he could possibly do: he'd spoken to Professor McGonagall, the Headmistress, to work something out. He'd owled the woman and been allowed to come to the school to talk.

She'd been reluctant at first; shocked to find Draco Malfoy holding a little girl in his arms, quite clearly his daughter when taking into account the platinum blonde hair and fair skin. She had her mother's eyes, though: deep brown.

But when Carina had asked McGonagall how she made her hair so nice, the old woman had broken into a grin and not been capable of turning them away (Draco had later bought her all the ice cream she could possibly want). McGonagall had given Draco permission to house his daughter at the school, given that she be kept under control. If so much as one accident occurred, they would both be out.

So on September first Draco pushed the cart carrying their trunks and Carina's new kitten in one hand and held his daughter's in the other as they passed through the gateway to Platform 9¾. Never before had he done so without his own parents.

No one seemed to spot the odd couple immediately. Draco let out a relieved sigh and led his daughter over to the smoking steam engine, packing Carina's small trunk snugly inside his own and loading them before helping Carina on board.

"Careful with Emilie!" Carina shouted, her light French accent coming out. She grabbed at the kitten that Draco held in his arms.

"I'll be very careful. You can hold her when we get to a cabin, alright, love?" Carina smiled and grabbed her daddy's finger with her hand, following at his side as he dragged the trunk along behind them.

He knew they'd get stares on the train, but it was still discomfiting. They'd gotten on board early; Draco had made sure of that so they could get a compartment alone. But there were still people on board, almost all of them younger than himself, and they all looked on curiously.

They settled down in one of the very back compartments and Carina played with her kitty as Draco heaved the trunk onto a shelf. "Emilie is very excited," she said when he'd finally sat down across from her. "She wants to go to school."

"Is that so?" Draco laughed. "What does she want to learn?" Carina seemed to ponder the question for a few moments before answering enthusiastically.

"She wants to learn magic!"

Draco chuckled. "Well, it's a good thing we're going to Hogwarts, then, isn't it?" Carina nodded fervently.

"Yes. I think Emilie will like Professor Migonall, don't you, Papa?"

"I think the two will get along quite well," Draco agreed with a smile. "Professor McGonagall likes cats very much."

"She does?" The best thing, Draco thought, about little kids, was that everything was so very exciting. At the news that Professor McGonagall liked cats, Carina looked as though she'd won a year's supply of chocolate frogs.

"Indeed." He smiled. "Carina, your bow's falling out, love." The girl's hand flew up to the top of her head where a pretty red bow sat atop her blonde hair. "Let me fix it." Draco leaned over and refastened the bow, running his hands through her hair more than necessary just because he enjoyed the feeling of it so much. It reminded him of his mother, of the times she would pet his hair when he was a little boy.

Over the next half hour the train began filling up, and in no time at all they started moving.

"Papa?" Draco looked away from the window to his daughter, who was standing in front of him with her hands on his knees. As soon as their eyes met she lifted her arms, silently asking to be picked up. Draco smiled lightly and pulled her onto his lap where she buried her face in his chest.

"Everything okay, sweetheart?"

"Tell me stories about when you were little," she said into his shirt. He watched as she brought her hand up and stuck her thumb in her mouth. It was a habit Narcissa had constantly tried and failed to break. Draco didn't have the heart to stop her; he remembered being reprimanded for the same thing. On the opposite side of the compartment the black cat was curled up in a ball sleeping. Draco sighed and kissed the top of Carina's head.

"What kind of stories, darling?" There was a small pop as the thumb was pulled from her mouth.

"Good stories. When you were little like me." The thumb entered her mouth once more and Draco could feel the faint motion of her jaw on his chest as she sucked lightly on the digit.

"I don't remember very much from that age, but I can tell you stories from when I was a little bit older. Is that okay?" She nodded this time instead of talking. "Hmm... Well, one of my favorite memories with Grandma is when I was about eight or nine. She took me out to Diagon Alley on a Sunday afternoon without your Grandpa, and we spent the whole day shopping and eating ice cream. We both used to adore the kind with little pieces of Chocolate Frogs, though Grandpa never allowed it. Grandma and I indulged ourselves that day." Draco smiled at the memory. Outings with his mother had been a rare treat. She never had much time. Lucius always monopolized most of it. That afternoon had been carefree and wonderful with his mother. He pulled himself out of his daydream and looked down at his daughter, whose breathing had become shallow with sleep.

If the train had been uncomfortable, it was nothing to the Great Hall.

Draco could have counted on one hand the amount of people who were not gawking at them without shame.

"Papa, why's everyone looking?" Carina whispered as the two made their way over to the Slytherin table.

"Because they can't believe how cute you are." Carina giggled and allowed Draco to pull her onto his lap. They were alone near the end of the Slytherin table. The younger students sat huddled together at the other end, talking animatedly, only occasionally glancing over now at the anomaly that was Draco and Carina. The older students that had returned (Blaise, Pansy, Theodore Nott, and Daphne Greengrass) sat together a bit farther down from him, though still separated from the other students. Draco couldn't see them talking—he doubted they had much to say to each other. Not one of them spared him a glance save for Pansy, who only looked over once.

Carina busied herself with ogling the empty golden plates that littered the table, gleaming prettily in the light of the candles floating above them.

"Papa?" Carina whispered, pulling Draco from his mindless scan of the Gryffindor table where the boy hero himself sat surrounded by admirers. He was smiling brightly, not a care in the world plaguing his perfect head. Draco sighed.

"Yes, darling?"

"Where's the ceiling?" Draco looked up to see stars twinkling down at him mockingly. He felt a tightness in his chest as he remembered first walking into the Great Hall as a new student eight years ago. How things had changed.

"It's charmed," he explained, looking back down at his daughter. Her eyes shined excitedly. "The ceiling in this room always looks like the sky outside." Carina's little mouth opened wide in amazement.

"Really?"

Draco laughed. "Really. You'll see in the morning, it'll be sunny!"

"Wow," she whispered, and again Draco was taken by the sheer enormity of her innocence.

The Hall became suddenly quiet when Professor McGonagall stood up at the Head Table and welcomed all students back, especially the returning eighth years who'd chosen to make up the schooling they'd lost due to the War. Predictably, she recognized Harry Potter, whose cheeks flashed red like the humble hero that he was, even while applause broke out around the Hall.

And then, almost as though everything had returned to normal, save the horrible feeling left in the absence of one Albus Dumbledore (Draco clenched his teeth harshly), McGonagall asked the new Deputy Headmaster, Professor Flitwick, to open the doors to the entrance hall and lead the Sorting Ceremony.

As the students were sorted into their respectful Houses, Draco couldn't decide whether he was more disgusted by the enthusiasm of every new Gryffindor or the horrified looks that plagued every last new Slytherin. Draco clapped all the same and, in turn, Carina clapped as well, though she hadn't the slightest inkling as to what she was applauding. At one point during the ceremony Draco had the misfortune of catching Potter's eye and recoiled at the look of contemplation on the boy's face. Surely he'd seen Carina; who hadn't? But for some reason (which Draco thought he could figure out if he thought about it hard enough) having Potter see his daughter and inevitably judge him was worse than absolutely anyone else.

The remainder of the ceremony passed rather uneventfully with the exception of numerous covert glances at him and his daughter. Draco dutifully ignored them, confident that Carina was none the wiser, so absorbed with watching the Sorting Hat, McGonagall, the ceiling, and the golden plates was she.

When the food appeared he made her a small plate of chicken, potatoes, and green beans to work through, which she just managed to do, provided Draco repeatedly refocus her attention. Carina was a true wonder when it came to dessert, though, as Draco well knew already: the child had about as much interest in the innumerable sweets to choose from as she did in the regular food. He tried only once to offer her a treacle tart, but ended up picking at it himself while she incessantly bombarded him with questions.

When the food finally disappeared and McGonagall sent everyone off to bed Draco held Carina's hand all the way down into the dungeon and through the maze of hallways that led to the wall behind which lay the Slytherin dorms. He helped Carina through after the first years had scrambled inside, making certain she remembered the password ("Unity"), though he explicitly told her she should not be out wandering by herself under any circumstances.

Draco was delighted to note that the few eighth years were given their own rooms down a separate hallway. He smiled appreciatively when he saw two beds in his designated room: a larger four-poster for himself and a smaller one just a few feet away for Carina. McGonagall certainly had made sure to accommodate him. He made a mental note to thank her later.

"Is that my bed?" Carina exclaimed as soon as she set eyes on the smaller bed with her trunk resting at the end.

"It certainly is," Draco chuckled. He watched as Carina raced over and opened the curtains, squealing in delight when she found Emilie resting contentedly on one of the pillows. The bed was certainly smaller than her bed at home, but he imagined it was bigger than most children her age could claim to possess.

"Alright, why don't we find your pajamas and toothbrush and get you washed up," Draco said, coming over to help her do so. They dug out a pink nightgown depicting a picture of Babbity Rabbity and matching pink socks, along with a sparkly pink toothbrush. Draco swore he would never own anything pink again as long as he lived.

He helped Carina brush her teeth and comb her hair in the connected bathroom and then change into her pajamas and climb into bed. He found her stuffed elephant as well and sat down on the side of her bed as she wiggled around until she was comfortable. Emilie hopped off the bed, disturbed by the movement, and slunk out through the small crack in the door and into the hallway. Carina didn't notice, only yawned and shuffled further under the quilt.

"I like Hogwarts," she said, very clearly working to keep her eyes open. Draco smiled fondly and kissed her on the forehead.

"I'm glad. Get some sleep, love. We have to be up early to get Daddy's classes at breakfast tomorrow."

"Are classes fun?"

Draco laughed. "They're _interesting_," he said with a wink. Carina giggled.

"What will we learn?"

"Oh, lots of things. Too many to count!"

Carina seemed astounded by this number.

"Wow," she whispered. She thought for a moment, then, before asking, "Will Professor Migonall be our teacher?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted with a smile. "Professor McGonagall used to teach Transfiguration, back before she was the Headmistress. But I'm not sure if she'll still teach now."

"She wasn't always Headmistress?" Carina asked, full of wonder. Draco refrained from biting his lip.

"No, sweetheart. In fact, just last year she was still a teacher."

"Who was the Headmistress before?"

Draco sighed. "Do you remember the picture of a man with black hair in Daddy's room at home?" he asked weakly. Carina nodded. "He was the Head_master_ last year. His name was Professor Snape. But he was only there for one year. Before that it was Professor D—" Draco stopped and cleared his throat, "Professor Dumbledore. He was Headmaster all the way up until my sixth year here."

Carina wiggled around a bit, enthralled by the story. "Why did he stop being Headmaster?" she whispered, her eyes wide.

_Because of your daddy_, Draco thought. _Because Severus killed him._ He shook his head and refocused on his daughter, the very picture of innocence, and kissed her forehead once more.

"That's a story for another night, darling. You need to get to sleep."

He tucked the blanket around her and kissed both cheeks before drawing the curtains around her bed. He changed into pajamas himself and closed the door before washing up and sliding into bed for a fitful night's sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to everyone for all the lovely reviews! I'm so glad everyone's enjoying it so far. :)_

Chapter Two

He'd brought Carina to classes already. She'd been to all of them yesterday and it had been just fine. But Draco was worried about Potions, and for good reason. Not only was she a risk to others, but she could easily get hurt. In fact, she could get killed. Draco's stomach plummeted.

The class was gathered outside the dungeon doors when the two arrived and Carina reached up to grab Draco's finger. He smiled and knelt down beside her. She looked at him anxiously. He could feel the eyes of everyone on them, but he determinedly ignored it and focused on his daughter.

"'Rina, Daddy needs you to behave really, _really_ well in this class, okay? There are things that could hurt you if you touch them. Will you be careful?" She squeezed his finger more tightly and brought her other hand up to clutch at his sleeve.

"What kind of stuff?" Draco chewed the inside of his lip, thinking of a good way to describe harmful potions to a three-year-old.

"There are potions in the cauldrons like the ones Daddy made when you were sick, remember? But some of these ones are dangerous. I need you to promise me that you'll be very, very careful."

"Why are they dangerous?" Before Draco could respond he heard someone snicker close by and looked up to see Blaise laughing to himself. Had Carina not been there he'd have punched him in the face. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked back at his daughter, her dark brown eyes filled with curiosity.

"Because if you don't make them right then they're not good to use. I don't want you to get hurt, love." He grinned comfortingly and leaned in to kiss her cheek. He loved kissing her cheek; in fact, he loved kissing any of her skin. It was still smooth and soft, just like when she was a baby. It was innocent and beautiful and it comforted him more than anything in the world. "Promise you'll behave?"

She held out her hand, angling her pinky slightly away from the rest of her fingers. She didn't yet have the coordination to separate them completely, but she'd learned pinky promises somewhere and had taken a liking to them.

"A pinky promise?" Draco gasped in mock surprise. Carina giggled. "You know what that means, don't you?"

"It means 'I promise'!"

"But it also means that if you don't keep your promise I get to tickle you whenever I want for the rest of the day."

"No!" she laughed, shaking her head and causing her pigtails to sway. Instead of giving her an answer he scooped her up in his arms and walked closer to the door, keeping his eyes away from the numerous stares.

"Malfoy!" Draco turned, nearly doubling back and leaving when he saw Theodore Nott standing there looking ready for a fight. He noticed Pansy behind him, arms across her chest and against the wall, pretending nothing worth her attention was going on. Draco lowered Carina to the ground once more and took her hands in his.

"Baby, I need you to close your eyes until I tell you to open them. Do you understand?"

"Why?" She was beginning to shake a bit, clearly aware that something was wrong with this boy who had just called for her father.

"Do as I say," he said, a little more harshly than he'd meant. Tears sprang to her eyes and, before he could lean in to kiss her cheek again, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up and was astounded to see Hermione Granger standing there, biting her lip nervously.

"I can take her for a minute..."

Draco was speechless. But when Nott said his name again, this time more loudly, he swallowed his pride and nodded.

"Thanks," he whispered. Granger led his daughter away and Draco stood to face his peer. "Can I help you, Nott?" he asked coolly.

"Yeah. Get your slimy arse to Azkaban where it belongs," he spat. Draco merely rolled his eyes and made to turn away, but was forced to spin around again when he heard someone shout, "Expelliarmus!"

He was ready to be blasted backwards, which was why he was shocked to see Nott's wand fly from his hand. It sailed through the air, only to be swiped by Harry bloody Potter.

Draco groaned.

"There are children here, Nott," Harry said, walking forwards to face the boy.

"Haven't you had your fill of saving the day?" Nott drawled, earning a glare from most of the crowd. However, before anything more could be said, the door to the Potions room swung open and the new professor, a male, stood in the doorway staring at the gathered students. The professor eyed Harry, who was holding Nott's wand, to Nott, who looked red-in-the-face with anger. His eyes then fell on Hermione, who was knelt on the ground, holding Carina as the girl cried on her shoulder.

"Problem?" the man asked. No one spoke.

"No, Professor," Harry finally said, snapping the group out of a collective trance. He then handed Nott his wand and walked past the professor into the room. The group followed, Theodore glaring at Draco as he passed. Draco, Hermione, and Carina were left in the hall and very suddenly Carina sprinted into Draco's arms, her sobs renewed.

"It's okay, baby," Draco said, smoothing her hair down. "Nothing happened." He was distracted from his daughter when Hermione came up beside him. He stood up and cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks tint lightly. "Thank you."

"Is she yours?" Draco nodded. Hermione looked down at the girl and then back at Draco. "If you ever need anything..." Again, he nodded. Hermione seemed to take that as her cue to leave because she finally entered the Potions classroom, Draco and Carina following behind.

* * *

><p>"Hermione." Harry nudged Hermione with his elbow and she shot him a dubious glare.<p>

"_What_, Harry?"

"Who the hell is the kid?"

Hermione sighed. Harry couldn't be bothered to care that she was getting annoyed with him. He was deathly curious as to who this child was that Draco Malfoy was dragging around the school treating like … well, like his _daughter_.

Hermione stayed silent for a moment before whispering, "She's his."

Harry's jaw nearly dropped. _What_?

"What do you mean, she's _his_?"

"She's his daughter," she hissed.

Harry felt lost for words. Of course, the idea had occurred to him when he'd seen the blond child with Malfoy at the feast, but he'd dismissed the notion as soon as it had crossed his mind. It was ridiculous. How could Draco Malfoy have a daughter? A daughter that looked to be at least three years old, no less. How could no one have _known_?

"It can't be," Harry said, shaking his head. Hermione rolled her eyes and continued fiddling with her potion. Harry had long since abandoned his own. "That doesn't make any sense."

"I don't know, Harry," she said exasperatedly, still refusing to look at him. "He told me she was his just outside the classroom, that's the only thing I—"

"He told you that?"

"_Yes_."

"Why in the world would he tell _you_ that?"

Hermione made a noise that very much sounded like a growl and Harry recoiled.

"That just doesn't make any sense that she could be his daughter," he said quietly.

"I know that. But clearly there's an explanation because I can think of even less reasons for him to lie about it."

Harry silently agreed with this, but it didn't stop him from being entirely baffled by the situation.

He stayed quiet after that, only half-heartedly working on his potion, before Hermione piped up again, reluctantly though it seemed.

"She certainly looks like him, doesn't she?"

Harry nodded. "Spitting image except for the eyes." Harry saw Hermione smirk and flushed. "What?"

"Nothing. It's true. She must have her mother's eyes."

At the mention of the girl's mother Harry's stomach flipped violently. Until that point he hadn't even considered that the child must have a mother out there somewhere—someone that Draco Malfoy had had sex with some time back in their, what … fifth year? Harry didn't know why that made him so uncomfortable.

"I wonder if he loves her," he wondered aloud. Hermione looked at him strangely.

"Are you kidding? Harry, he brought her to school with him, I think it's safe to assume he—"

"No, no, no," Harry said, shaking his head. "I mean, whoever the mum is. I wonder if, you know…"

"Oh," Hermione said quietly. She cocked her head in thought. "I don't know. Seems very … well, I guess it's not the nicest thing to say, but it seems rather farfetched, doesn't it? Draco feeling that way about someone?"

Harry didn't know what to call it, but the conversation was making him feel weird. His stomach was starting to churn uncomfortably and he didn't know why. He determinedly looked away from Malfoy and his daughter, to whom he was currently speaking over one of the many ingredients, presumably teaching her something about it. He always had been competent when it came to Potions.

"I've never seen him act like that," Harry said quietly. He saw Hermione nod beside him. "Why d'you think he's just now bringing her?"

Hermione shrugged. "Could be a number of reasons. The War's over, for one. And, well, he doesn't really have any parents to take care of her anymore, does he? And the mum is probably in school as well."

"Yeah." A thought occurred to him then and he found himself looking around the classroom, suddenly suspicious of every last girl. "Do you think she goes here?" he gasped. "To Hogwarts?"

"Seems unlikely," Hermione said. She, too, looked around, though skeptically. "Why wouldn't she be helping him out if she did?"

"I don't know … doesn't wanna deal with the stress?" Harry couldn't have said why (nor did he want to, in fact, because the thought made him nauseous), but a feeling much too reminiscent of the envy he'd experienced over Ginny sixth year flared up at the idea that some girl in the school could feasibly have a child with Malfoy.

"I suppose…" she agreed. Harry knew she wasn't convinced. "I don't know, I think it seems much more likely that she goes to another school somewhere. Or maybe she's older than we are. He may be acting the part of a father, but people don't change _that_ much _that_ quickly. I just can't see Draco letting someone get away with that." She paused. "Besides, don't you think the child would run to her mum the moment she saw her?"

"That's true." The evidence against the mum being in school with them made Harry feel better about the situation, but he still couldn't seem to forget it entirely. The fact remained that someone somewhere was the mother of that child, and she very likely was intimately involved with Malfoy.

Harry was beginning to feel very sick indeed.

_Why the fuck do I care? I don't care. This is ridiculous. I don't care. Why am I even thinking about this?_

"Exactly. I don't think the mother goes to Hogwarts," Hermione said definitively. She looked over at him, eyebrows drawn together. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he said much too quickly. Hermione didn't say anything more on the subject, though he would have bet all the Galleons in Gringotts she was contemplating _something_.

When the end of class approached Harry was just packing his things away when he noticed someone walking toward them out of his peripheral vision. He looked up and felt his stomach flip when he saw Malfoy, his daughter's hand wrapped around his finger, approach Ron and Hermione, who were speaking on the other side of the table.

"Oh, hello, Malfoy," Hermione said kindly, and then looked down at the girl. "I never asked your name," she said with a smile, kneeling down so that she was face-to-face with the child.

"Carina," the girl said shyly, her pale cheeks blushing red. Hermione laughed and looked up at Malfoy, who smirked. Harry had no idea why.

"What a beautiful name. Mine's Hermione," she said, holding out her hand. Carina shook it with the hand that wasn't clutching her father's. Hermione stood back up.

"I just wanted to thank you for earlier," Malfoy said. Hermione smiled.

"Of course. Like I said, if you need anything else, just ask." Malfoy nodded before turning to leave, except that Carina suddenly abandoned his hand and turned back to Hermione.

"Excuse me," the girl said, tugging lightly on Hermione's pants. Hermione turned back around and smiled brightly.

"Carina!" Draco reprimanded her. "That's not polite."

"It's alright," Hermione laughed. She knelt down again. Harry saw Ron watching the whole interaction in absolute astonishment. "What is it, Carina?"

"Do you like cats?" To Harry's surprise, he heard Malfoy laugh.

"I do," Hermione said. "I have one myself! Why do you ask?"

Carina looked like Christmas had just come early. "I have a kitty! Would you like to meet her? She's the nicest kitty in the world, you'll see!"

"Oh, er—" Hermione looked uncertainly up at Malfoy, who couldn't seem to believe this was happening. "I'm not sure…"

Carina turned to her father with pleading eyes. "Papa, can Hermany come to see Emilie, oh please?"

Time seemed to stop as this little girl inadvertently attempted to merge two sides of a past War. Harry watched in anticipation, his heart pounding madly, while Ron seemed lost for words.

"You're welcome to visit, if you'd like," Malfoy said quietly, his cheeks positively flaming. Harry's mouth dropped open. Malfoy looked up at him for just a moment, but when he returned his gaze to his daughter he was smirking. Harry's stomach knotted.

_Fuck_.

"Oh … well, I'd love to meet Emilie," Hermione said with a smile. "Perhaps I could bring mine and they could play. How does that sound?"

"Lovely!" Carina squealed. Harry couldn't help laughing.

"It's a date, then." She stood and faced Malfoy. "After dinner?"

"Sure. We'll see you later, then."

"Goodbye!" Carina said amiably, waving goodbye to Hermione as she and her father left the room.

Hermione turned to look at him and Ron.

"The fuck..?" Ron whispered.

"That was in the top three weirdest things that has ever happened to me," Harry said.

"The other two being?"

"I don't know, but they definitely had to do with Voldemort."

Hermione laughed. "He's changed. How it happened is beyond me, but I suppose we should just go with it."

"_We_?" Ron said, raising a brow. "He didn't even look at me or Harry." Hermione glanced at Harry for a moment.

"Yes, well … it would do both of you well to try and get along with him. His daughter's just darling."

"I agree with Harry," Ron said dramatically. "Possibly the most bizarre thing I have ever witnessed."

Hermione chuckled. "Let's go. We have another class after this break."

"Yes, and then a play date with Malfoy's daughter after dinner." Hermione smirked as she lifted her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the room, Harry and Ron behind her.

* * *

><p>"Are you two coming?"<p>

Harry felt his stomach knot up. He wished he could have declined and been completely unaffected by it, but he couldn't. Instead, he had to decline with a horrible pit in his stomach.

_I'm losing my mind._

Ron, on the other hand, simply laughed and wished her luck.

"I don't think we were invited anyway," Harry said, moving toward the stairs in the entrance hall. "Are you coming to get Crookshanks?"

"Yes, after I talk to Malfoy. Find him, will you? He's probably hiding beneath my bed."

"Hermione," Ron deadpanned.

She looked at him for a moment before smiling.

"Oh! Right. Send Ginny to do it, then, if he's up there."

Hermione watched as Harry and Ron made their way up the stairs, whispering between themselves as they went. She would have given anything to know what was going on inside Harry's head. Since the War had ended he'd been perfectly happy; spending time with Ginny, his friends, the Weasleys, and simply smiling and laughing enough to make up for all the lost time. She hadn't seen him look this uncomfortable since before Voldemort had been defeated, and it didn't slip her notice that it had been sparked by Draco and his daughter. Something was going on; she just couldn't put her finger on it.

Hermione abandoned her thoughts when she saw Draco and Carina walking out of the Great Hall.

"Hello," she said as she approached them. Carina beamed up at her. Draco simply looked unsure of the whole situation.

"Look," he said quietly, scanning the entrance hall, "if you don't mind, I think it would be better if we went to the quad or out by the lake instead of the Slytherin common room."

"Of course," Hermione said happily, secretly relieved she wouldn't have to enter the snake's den. The War may have been over, but Slytherins were still Slytherins. "I have to get Crookshanks. I'll meet you two here?"

"Yeah," Draco said with a nod. He glanced at the stairs. "Are…?"

"No," said Hermione quietly. She wondered whether he'd wanted Harry to come. Certainly not Ron, but Harry? She doubted it. He may have matured a lot but that didn't mean the rivalry wasn't still there. Draco nodded. "See you in a few."

Hermione walked into the common room to find Harry and Ginny on a couch, his arm draped over her shoulder, Crookshanks purring contentedly in her lap.

"Thanks, Gin," she said, gently pulling the cat into her arms.

"He was down here," she said. "Are you really..?" She glanced at the portrait and back at Hermione.

"Yes. His daughter's adorable. And he's changed quite a bit himself."

"I can't believe he's got a daughter," Ginny said with a shake of her head. "Knew he was a slut." She smirked evilly and looked at Harry, who laughed.

"I'll be back soon." She looked at Harry directly. "You and Ron should start your Transfiguration essays. They're due Friday. It may not be McGonagall anymore, but Cornwall doesn't seem much more lenient." Harry nodded dully. "See you later."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for the reviews. Enjoy. :)_

Chapter Three

Hermione met Draco and Carina in the entrance hall. It was a surprisingly comfortable silence that consumed them as they walked behind Carina, who was busy talking to Emilie all the way to the lake.

"She looks just like you," Hermione said eventually, just before they made it to the large Beech tree under which she, Ron, and Harry used to study in previous years. Draco chuckled.

"Except her eyes. She's got—"

"Her mum's eyes, yes, I figured," Hermione laughed. "That's what everyone used to say to Harry."

Draco nodded but said nothing. She wondered if she shouldn't have brought Harry up.

When they sat down under the tree Hermione laid Crookshanks on the grass, who purred and rubbed his head against Carina's knee.

"His name's Crookshanks," Hermione said.

"That's a funny name," Carina giggled. "What does it mean?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione admitted. "It was the name he had at the store where I bought him back in my third year."

"What year are you now?" Carina asked, idly stroking Crookshanks's tail.

"An eighth year. The same as your father." It struck her then that she'd had Crookshanks for five years. Time certainly flew. "Did you name Emilie yourself?"

"Yes," Carina said proudly. "It was my mama's name!"

Hermione felt her heart go cold. _Was?_ She looked over at Draco, who had gone paler than usual.

"Carina, darling, did you know there's a giant squid in the lake? Why don't you try to find a tentacle?"

"Okay!" The little girl got up and walked over to the edge of the lake, peering over curiously.

"Careful," Draco said. She seemed to ignore him. He looked down at his hands before glancing up at Hermione.

"Her mother died two weeks after Carina turned one."

"I'm so sorry," Hermione whispered. Draco shook his head.

"I never… She was an accident," he said softly, looking away. He began fidgeting with his fingers. "During the Christmas holidays of our fifth year I went to France with my family. I got a French girl pregnant. She had Carina in September of our sixth year."

"You … did you know?"

Draco nodded. "Emilie told me when she was a few months pregnant. She was two years older than us, though, so by the time she had Carina she was finished with school."

"But you were … we were in our sixth year. That was…"

"Yeah," he whispered. Hermione thought back to Draco that year … the year Harry had stalked him incessantly, so sure he'd been a part of something to do with Voldemort. He'd been right, of course. She bit her lip at the thought that Draco had had the weight of a little girl on his shoulders at the same time. "Carina stayed with her mother and grandparents in France for the year. She would visit the Manor on occasion. My father was still in Azkaban for most of the year, though, so it was only my mother. She wasn't pleased about my having a daughter, of course, but she loved Carina."

"That's good," Hermione said, nodding. She remembered that Narcissa Malfoy had died recently and wondered if Draco missed her more than he was letting on. "You said Emilie died after Carina turned one?" He nodded. "So that was…"

"Our … well, our seventh year, yes. You three were…"

"Not at Hogwarts," Hermione laughed lightly.

"Yeah." He took a breath. "Carina stayed with her grandparents for the rest of the War. She couldn't be at the Manor, of course. We had guests." Hermione looked at the lake and shivered. She momentarily was reminded of her time on the floor of the Manor while Bellatrix attempted to force information out of her.

"Why did you decide to bring her this year?"

"I wasn't going to," Draco sighed."First I'd planned on leaving her with my mother, but that plan was shot. My father's in Azkaban. I was going to send her back to her grandparents in France at the end of August but they refused to take her."

"Why?" Hermione nearly shouted, scandalized by this information. Draco chuckled.

"They hate me and resent Carina. Emilie died of Ovarian Cancer. They think it's my fault."

"That's ridiculous! How could that be your fault! What a horrible thing to do! I can't—!"

"There's nothing I can do about it," he said, cutting her off. "Besides, I'm glad I have her here with me. She's the only thing I have left in a way. I can't visit my father." Hermione looked into Draco's haunted eyes and nodded.

Silence consumed them again for a few minutes. Hermione wondered about Draco, how he'd changed so much. She wondered whether he would ever be in another relationship.

She decided to ask.

"Do you think you'll ever find someone else? To help you raise her?"

He laughed. "Perhaps. I'll have to try dating again first, though."

"I don't suppose Hogwarts has the kind of girl you're looking for, either, does it?" she said with a smirk.

"I don't think there's a _girl_ for me anywhere."

Hermione's eyebrows dipped suspiciously. She'd heard the emphasis on the key word but wasn't entirely sure if that was what he'd meant.

"You're…" she began, but hesitated, feeling enormously awkward at the turn in the conversation. Surely Draco Malfoy wasn't admitting something such as this to _her_ of all people.

"I'm gay, Granger," he laughed. Her eyes went wide.

"You … really?"

"I only recently discovered so," he said lightly. "But yes."

"When did you figure it out, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Not through experience, if that's what you mean," he said with a smirk. She felt her cheeks heat up. "It was just more of a realization, I guess. Simple as that."

"Does—er—anyone else know?"

"Only you," he said with a small smile. Hermione felt stunned. "But it's not because I'm trying to hide it. There just hasn't been a reason to say anything. There's not been much time recently for that sort of thing."

Hermione nodded silently, attempting to process this information. She'd never in a million years have guessed that Draco was gay. Sure, he had somewhat delicate features, but that had always just been a part of his arrogant, aristocratic nature—nothing to point toward homosexuality. In fact, his features weren't exactly a _choice_, although she supposed he could have done something to make himself look a bit more masculine.

Now that she was thinking about it, Hermione realized Malfoy certainly had had rather feminine tendencies over the years. He was dramatic to the extreme and seemed to hold grudges in a way that boys never really did. Not to mention how vicious he could be. He was as bad as some women.

She wondered suddenly if he had his eye on anyone at Hogwarts.

"Does Hogwarts have the kind of _boy_ you're looking for, then?" she asked quietly, hoping she hadn't crossed any boundaries. To her immense relief, he smiled, though it was a sad smile and made her heart clench.

She briefly marveled at the fact that she felt sorry for Draco.

"I don't think that matters much," he said. Hermione looked on in confusion. "Regardless of whether or not _I_ want someone from Hogwarts, the pressing issue is whether he—_they_ could ever see _me_ that way." Again, Hermione wasn't sure how to interpret Draco's words. Had it been a slip-up, or did Draco actually have his eye on someone?

"Because of the War?" she asked carefully. Draco laughed somewhat humorlessly and nodded once.

"Something like that."

Before Hermione could prod further Carina came bounding back up the grassy slope, laughing wildly, and threw herself into her father's lap. Hermione watched with a smile as Draco's eyes lit up and he wrapped his arms around the small girl, holding her backwards against his chest. She was breathing heavily but grinning all the same.

"Did you find the squid?" he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder. Carina shook her head.

"I couldn't see him," she said grumpily, "but I found fishies!"

"What kind of fishies?" Hermione asked. Carina looked at her excitedly.

"Little ones! Lots of them!"

"Were they pretty?" Draco asked, and Hermione could see him smiling into his daughter's hair. She bit her lip, suddenly overcome by happiness at the sight. It was truly a beautiful thing, the two of them.

"Oh, yes!" Carina said enthusiastically. She gasped, then, and wriggled around in Draco's lap until she faced him. His eyebrows rose in amusement. "Papa, could I _have_ one?"

Hermione chuckled.

"Sweetheart, you just got Emilie!"

"Yes, but those fishies are so pretty, Papa!"

"We'll see," he said mischievously, winking at his daughter. This seemed to satisfy her because she smiled before maneuvering back around and hopping out of his lap to find the cats, both of whom were curled up in the grass, soaking up the last rays of sunshine for the day.

Draco looked briefly at his watch and sighed, staring thoughtfully at Carina as she disrupted Emilie and Crookshanks.

"What time is it?" Hermione asked. Draco looked at her for a moment, seemingly haven been shaken from a reverie, before answering.

"Nearly eight."

"We should go in," Hermione said. Draco sighed and looked back to Carina. He nodded.

Together they went to collect Carina and both the cats and then walked back up to the castle, Crookshanks leisurely following behind, Emilie in Hermione's arms, and Draco carrying Carina, whose thumb had found her mouth and her cheek his shoulder.

When they reached the entrance hall Draco put Carina down in order to take Emilie from Hermione.

"See you tomorrow, Carina," she smiled. The little girl, whose thumb was still in her mouth, grinned sleepily around the digit and waved. Hermione chuckled and looked up at Draco. "We should talk again sometime."

"Yeah," said Draco softly. "G'night."

"'Night." She watched the two of them descend the stairs into the dungeon before climbing up to Gryffindor Tower. She found Ron and Harry sitting in their usual chairs by the fire, playing a game of wizard chess, which Harry was quite apparently losing.

"Bad luck, mate," Ron said as one of his pieces threw Harry's off the board. Harry looked up when Hermione came closer and immediately seemed to forget the game.

"How'd it go?" he asked. Ron looked up as well and abandoned the game to join the interrogation.

"Was it terrible?"

Hermione sighed but smiled. "Budge up," she said, and sat down when Ron made space for her on the chair. "She was extremely pleasant." Ron made a sour face. "And as for Draco … well, he's changed a lot."

"Ugh, we've lost her, Harry," Ron said dramatically. "To a ferret, no less."

"Shut up, Ron," Harry laughed, though Hermione could tell he was a bit nervous beneath the façade. "What did you guys do?"

"We went to the Beech tree—" Ron groaned "—and just talked for a while. Carina went to play by the lake and Draco told me a little bit about—er—the mother…" She wondered suddenly whether it was her place to say anything. She was almost positive Draco wouldn't care, but still… And what about the other bit of information? That Draco fancied boys? He'd said he wasn't trying to hide it, but would it be wise to tell these two? She couldn't be sure how Ron and Harry would take it.

"He told you about the mother?" Harry asked, looking both interested and ambivalent.

"Yes. Carina had asked about Crookshanks's name and so I asked about Emilie, and she told me that it had been her mother's name."

"_Had_ been?" Ron asked, eyebrows furrowed. Harry bit his lip, seemingly aware of the path down which they were headed.

"She died," he guessed. Hermione nodded. Ron's eyes went wide.

"Blimey," he whispered. "Did he tell you how?"

"Draco told Carina to go play by the lake when she said that and then he told me the story. During the holidays of our fifth year he went with his family to France and got a French girl pregnant, which makes sense now that I think about it because Carina calls Draco "Papa" and—"

"_Fifth_ year?" Harry interrupted, looking surprised. Hermione nodded.

"She was born in September of our sixth year. He said Emilie had told him when she was two months in, so he knew already when we came to school."

"Fuck," Harry whispered. "That entire year I was… And he had a daughter to worry about the whole time…"

"Yeah. Emilie was two years older than us, though, so by the time she had Carina she was out of school and able to take care of her."

"Two years older?" Ron said. "What a little slag, he is!"

"Stop it, Ron," Hermione said harshly. He had the decency to look slightly ashamed. "Carina visited the Manor a few times that year, I guess. I assume it was on holidays when Draco was there to see her."

"So when did the mum die?" Harry prodded.

"He said she died of Ovarian Cancer a few weeks after Carina's first birthday. So it had to have been some time in September." It struck her that not only was Carina's third birthday coming up, but the anniversary of Emilie's death. "Emilie's parents kept her through the remainder of the War and Draco said he took her back once he'd been cleared of charges, thanks to you," she said, looking at Harry. He blushed lightly and looked down at his hands in his lap.

"Does he miss her?" Harry asked quietly. Hermione contemplated her answer for a few moments.

"He didn't really say anything about that. Just that Carina had been an accident and he hadn't loved Emilie." Harry looked up suddenly. Hermione noted this. "But I'm sure he misses her, if only a little bit."

"So why is the kid at school with him now?" Ron asked.

"Well, Lucius is in jail and Narcissa died, and apparently Emilie's parents refused to take Carina in. They blame their daughter's death on Draco."

"What?" Harry looked thoroughly offended by this information. Even Ron appeared uncomfortable.

"But that doesn't make any sense," he said. "How could that be his fault? It's not like he gave her cancer!"

"Yes, well, people come to absurd conclusions sometimes when it comes to their children. Anyway, he didn't tell me how he managed it, but I assume he spoke to McGonagall before coming." She paused for a moment. "He adores her, you know."

"Carina?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. He told me he's glad she's here. That she's all he has. Technically, she is. I mean, Lucius is the only other family he has left, isn't he? And he's in Azkaban for life."

A pregnant silence ensued, lasting a fair few minutes before Harry finally spoke.

"What about finding someone else?" he said quietly. "I mean, he could find another mother for her, couldn't he?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"Actually, there's something else he told me, as well…"

"What?" Ron looked far more interested than he would probably ever care to admit. Harry, too, was clearly engrossed in the conversation, though he had a nervous air about him.

"What did he tell you?" Harry pressed when she stayed silent.

"Please don't make a big deal of it."

"Merlin, it's that big?" said Ron with wide eyes.

"No, it's just—"

"Oh, just tell us!" Harry said loudly. Hermione looked back and forth between them before making her decision. She took a breath.

"Well… He's gay."


	4. Chapter 4

_A__gain, thank you all for the wonderful reviews! Unfortunately, due to finals coming up, I'm trying to ban myself from anything non-school-related on the internet for the next week. So another update probably won't come until next Monday-ish. Sorry. :(_

_Enjoy this, though!_

Chapter Four

Having their own rooms had been a blessing so far. This wasn't the first time Harry and Ginny had taken advantage.

This was, however, the first time he'd not wanted to participate in the intended activities.

Ginny crawled on top of him, covering his body with her smaller one, planting a small kiss on his chin. He tried to clear his mind of all thoughts and just focus on the sensation of the warm girl above him, but couldn't seem to do so. He'd never had this problem before. In fact, he'd found in his sixth year that he was rather sexual indeed, always ready and willing to do anything Ginny was in the mood for.

Not tonight, though. And that wasn't the worst part. The worst of it was that he wasn't necessarily not in the mood—he just wasn't finding Ginny to be particularly … _to his taste_right now. No, the one person whose face wouldn't seem to leave him alone was someone whom Harry had certainly been plagued by before, though not quite in the same way.

Malfoy's face was not a new occurrence in his mind. Sixth year he'd been plagued by it as well, though back then it had been accompanied by Dark Marks and fear and a tingling scar.  
>Now it was accompanied by a very unnerving stirring in his groin and a warmth in his belly.<p>

"Harry?" He was pulled from his thoughts by Ginny's voice, and when he refocused he found that she was staring down at him with furrowed brows.

"Hm?" he mumbled stupidly.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm…" He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts, before opening them again. "I'm sorry, Gin, I guess I'm just not in the mood tonight." That was a lie if he'd ever told one. He was half hard, though he couldn't honestly say it had anything to do with Ginny. He'd been feeling uncomfortably aroused ever since Hermione had let slip the very interesting news about Malfoy's sexuality.

Ginny crawled off of him slowly, a look of contemplation on her face.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

He wondered if that was a good idea. Was it dangerous territory? Although, why should it be? It wasn't as though he was actually _attracted_to Malfoy. It was just a new thought. Something that was messing with his mind.

He decided he may as well share this with her.

"Did you know Malfoy's gay?" he blurted out. Ginny's eyebrows rose beneath her hairline.

"Er—no, I can't say I did…"

"Right, you wouldn't," he mumbled. "Hermione told me and Ron today." Ginny settled back against Harry's headboard beside him and stared ahead of her, a mixture of annoyance, reluctant interest, and suspicion playing on her face.

"Did she find this out during their little playdate?"

Unlike when Ron had said it, Harry found it annoying coming from Ginny.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"And did she say how she figured it out?"

Harry was confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, he didn't just up and _tell_ her, did he?" she chuckled. From the look on Harry's face she must have gathered that this was _exactly_what had happened and she frowned. "He told her that?"

"That's what she told me," said Harry.

"Well, what about the mother?" He didn't know why, but he could sense anger bubbling below the surface. Ginny was getting upset.

Harry briefly explained what Hermione had told him and Ron about Emilie and Ginny seemed as equally aggravated as she did genuinely sympathetic.

"So what are you getting at?" she asked finally. Harry raised a brow. "You're not in the mood because you found out Malfoy's gay?" Even to Harry that sounded bad. He remained silent. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It doesn't mean anything," he said quickly. "I was just thinking about it. It's a lot of information at once."

"Fine, but why is it preventing you from getting hard?" she asked crudely. Harry felt a deep blush color his cheeks and crawl along his neck. He bit his lip and looked down at his lap, entirely ashamed to see the very slight bulge in his baggy jeans. Ginny, too, looked down and closed her eyes slowly when she spotted the half-erection.

"Ginny—" he began, but she raised her hand and effectively stopped him mid-sentence.

"It's not because of me," she quietly accused.

"I—" He stopped him_self_this time as Ginny climbed off the bed and gathered her sweater which had previously been removed. "Ginny, wait, it's not—"

"It's exactly that, Harry," she said flatly. He swallowed but said nothing. "You need to figure this out. When you do, let me know." And with that she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Fuck." He slammed his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. He opened them again moments later and stared at the ceiling, trying and failing to make sense of this mess in which he'd quite suddenly found himself. He scowled. Malfoy always managed to find a way to crawl under his skin and make him squirm, whether it be physically fighting, verbally fighting, taunting him with a hidden Dark Mark, or saving his arse in his own home while his father and lunatic aunt watched. This was different, though. This had a different feeling. After all, never before had Harry's prick taken interest in the situation. He banged his head against the wall again and closed his eyes.

He thought about Malfoy for a few seconds, running through different scenarios where they'd fought, for that really was the only time they'd ever had contact. He thought about the way Malfoy had grown over the years, both mentally and physically. He remembered sixth year when Malfoy had begun to look so haggard and worn, remembered when he'd shown Dumbledore his Mark on the astronomy tower and the way his eyes had looked red and puffy. He thought about how Malfoy had looked like a skeleton when he'd seen him in the Manor when he, Ron, and Hermione had been captured, and he especially focused on the way Malfoy's eyes had looked when he'd lied and said he hadn't recognized Harry.

Harry's train of thought drifted a bit and he thought about how Malfoy had had a daughter at that point. Somewhere in France Carina had been living with her grandparents, her mum already long gone.

And then he thought about the mum herself, and very suddenly he began wondering about her and Malfoy, how they'd met, if Malfoy had really liked her. How many times they'd had sex. He bit his lip as images of a naked Malfoy pounding into another body filled his head and he distinctly felt himself harden further, while simultaneously he felt his muscles tense up in annoyance.

Had _she_ loved _him_?

He allowed his mind to drift further, if only because he simply couldn't help his curiosity, and instead of a girl lying beneath Malfoy on a bed, he pictured Malfoy lying on the bed and Harry on top of him; he pictured Malfoy arching up into him as Ginny did, except in this scenario Harry felt hard muscles contract beneath the sweaty skin, and instead of blue eyes staring up at him they were gray. They were nearly black with lust and they were filled with the passion and angst and hatred of seven years finally being realized as they writhed together naked on a bed.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut as he felt himself reach full erection.

There was simply no way around it, though he tried desperately to search for an explanation. He was turning himself on with the thought of having Malfoy naked and wanting on his bed.

Perhaps it was a power trip, he thought. Or maybe just the absurdity or forbidden nature of the situation. Either way, he knew he could have easily wanked to the thought right now.  
>But he didn't let himself. That felt much too immoral somehow.<p>

It didn't stop him from thinking, though.

* * *

><p>"What happened with Ginny last night?"<p>

Harry nearly dropped his wand, only just managing to grasp it before it fell. He looked around quickly to make sure no one had heard before looking to Hermione, his eyes wide.

"What are you talking about?" he bit out through clenched teeth. Ron was close by, trying desperately to charm a small jewelry box to dance. Hermione turned back to her own box and flicked her wand, causing it to do a graceful leap.

"She was in a foul mood this morning and I know she'd gone to your room last night. She had told me she was going to."

Harry silently cursed Hermione for being so observant.

"Nothing happened," he lied. He looked at the jewelry box sitting before him but didn't bother trying to charm it. He wasn't in the mood. Hermione's comment had put him on edge. He'd already been feeling anxious since he'd woken up and Malfoy had immediately flooded his mind. He'd glanced at him several times at breakfast and found himself looking forward to Transfiguration, where he knew he'd see Malfoy and his daughter.

"Oh, hush," Hermione said with a smirk. "I know you too well for that. Something happened. Did you fight?"

"No, we didn't fight!" he said just a tad too loudly, for Ron looked over and raised an eyebrow.

"Don't blow a fuse, mate," Ron laughed. Harry made a childish face at him and Ron chuckled before returning to his project.

"So, what did you fight about?"

Harry groaned, leaning his elbows on the table and burying his face in his hands.

"Malfoy," he mumbled into his palms.

"Sorry?"

He stood up straight and glared at her.

"You heard me."

Hermione rolled her eyes, though a small, satisfied smile tugged at her lips.

"You fought about Malfoy?"

"Shh!" Harry whispered harshly, once again looking frantically around the classroom. Hermione chuckled.

"No one's listening to us, Harry," she said. "What about him?"

Harry leaned against the counter, the edge digging into the middle of his back. He contemplated his words.

"I was just being … _distant_and she got frustrated. I told her I was thinking about Malfoy, just about the stuff you'd told me! It was a lot to take in!"

"It was," Hermione agreed. He wished she would stop smiling like that. Like she knew something. "Were you thinking about anything in particular?"

_She knows_, he thought. And though he wanted to tell himself there was nothing to know, he couldn't. The simple fact of the matter was that he'd imagined fucking Malfoy last night. End of story. He wanted to take back everything he'd said. He wanted to kick himself. He should have known better than to say anything Hermione could even _possibly_interpret. The woman was like living, breathing Veritaserum. She could force the truth out of you without you even realizing it was happening.

"No," he said, purposely not meeting her eyes.

"So just thinking about him in general, then?"

Harry groaned. Of course she'd find a way to make his words sound bad anyway. He looked over at her to find that she was watching him patiently, the slightest hint of a knowing smile playing on her lips.

"What are you getting at?" he asked finally. She raised her hands in defense.

"_I'm _not getting at anything. I was just trying to figure out what happened with Ginny and you went all Malfoy on my arse." She laughed out loud when Harry glared at her. "Hey, we can drop it, if you'd like. Obviously it's not something you're comfortable talking about yet."

"There's nothing to talk about!"

"Alright, alright!" she laughed, turning back to her jewelry box. "I'm sorry for assuming."

Harry merely sighed and rolled his eyes. He ignored Hermione's continued chuckling.

* * *

><p>When Transfiguration came around Harry was a nervous wreck. As soon as they walked into the classroom he'd spotted Malfoy sitting in the seat he'd occupied last time, his daughter on her knees in a chair beside him. She was doodling on a piece of parchment.<p>

"Hi, Carina," Hermione said as they passed them. "Malfoy."

"Hermany!" Carina shouted. Hermione laughed and Malfoy smiled.

"It's 'her-my-oh-knee,' darling," Malfoy said, but Carina ignored him, continuing instead to focus on Hermione. Hermione smirked.

"No one seems to be able to pronounce my name," she joked.

"Yeah, what was it Krum called you? 'Herm-oh-ninny'?"

Hermione rounded on Ron with a glare while Malfoy let out a bark of laughter. It seemed to Harry that the apocalypse was not yet finished, because he could have sworn he saw Ron smirk at Malfoy, who laughed in return.

"I'm sorry, Ron, what was it Lavender called you? Won-Won?"

"Alright, kids, that's enough," Harry said, placing a hand on both their backs and leading them down the aisle toward three free seats.

"Always the mediator, eh, Scarhead?" Harry nearly felt the anger from years past boil up inside of him, but when he turned to face Malfoy he saw that he was smirking. His stomach churned.

"Someone's gotta do it, hm, Ferret face?" Malfoy went beet red, but he didn't look angry.

"Papa, what's a ferret?"

Harry laughed as he sat down with Ron and Hermione.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks to all of you for your lovely reviews. I got some work done this week, so hopefully finals won't be too bad. ;)_

_Enjoy!_

Chapter Five

Hermione sat down next to Ginny on a couch in the Gryffindor common room. She was attempting to read something for History of Magic, though it didn't look like it was going so well.

"Hi, Gin," she said, leaning back into the couch casually. She noted that Harry and Ron were not yet back from the pitch where they'd decided to go for a ride. Quidditch had been canceled this year and the boys hadn't had a chance to fly yet.

"Hey, 'Mione," she mumbled, keeping up her attempt at reading. Hermione chuckled.

"Mind if I ask a question?"

Ginny finally looked up from her book.

"Er—sure. What's up?"

"Did something happen with you and Harry?"

She knew immediately that she'd been right; Ginny's face flushed and her teeth clenched.

"Why do you ask?" Her eyebrows dipped suddenly. "Did Harry say something?"

"No, nothing like that, I just noticed that you two hadn't spoken today and, well, you'd said you were going to hang out in his room last night, so…"

Ginny sighed and looked back down at her book, though her eyes weren't focused on the words. After a silent moment she closed the book and faced Hermione, bringing her legs up under her.

"I was kissing him," she began, "and he wasn't responding. Not at _all_. So I asked what was wrong and he starts up with this nonsense about Malfoy being gay. I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't _care_if he's gay, but who the hell brings that up while their bloody girlfriend is kissing them?"

Hermione pursed her lips in thought.

"Yes, that's rather odd," she said, scratching her head. She'd decided not to mention to Ginny that Harry had already told her about this. It would most likely only make things worse. "Did he say anything else about it?"

"I don't know," Ginny groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Something about being overwhelmed with new information… It was a load of rubbish. He was hard, Hermione, and it wasn't because of me."

Hermione's eyes went wide. She certainly hadn't been expecting _that_.

"Really?"

"Yes!" Ginny yelled, gesturing wildly with her arms. "So I walked out. Harry needs to figure his crap out, because this is ridiculous and I'm not dealing with it." She looked at Hermione and narrowed her eyes. "Oh no, I know what you're thinking. I'm not being hard on him, Hermione! We're dating! How am I supposed to react?"

"I know, Ginny, and you have every right to feel the way you do," she said. Ginny laughed humorlessly and folded her arms. "But what if Harry's just trying to find himself? You have to admit he didn't have much time to do that during his adolescence. He was constantly thinking about Voldemort! And I don't think he's _not_attracted to you, I think that maybe he's just, you know … also finding that he might be attracted to Draco." Ginny rolled her eyes at the use of his name. "Merlin knows it would make sense with the way those two went at it in past years."

"So, what, has he told you that?" Ginny asked quietly. "Does he fancy Malfoy?"

"No, he didn't tell me that," Hermione sighed. "But, Ginny… Look, I love you both and I don't want either of you to get hurt. Maybe it's time you and Harry took a break, just to see what happens."

"I can't believe you're saying this." Ginny pinched the bridge of her nose. Hermione bit her lip. She felt horrible, but in her heart she knew it was the right thing. If Harry really did like Malfoy then this would give him an opportunity to explore that. If not … well, then he and Ginny would get back together. "Do you want them to be together?"

"I want Harry to be happy."

Ginny dropped her arms to her side.

"What do I do, then? Break up with him?"

"No, I think you should just leave it be for now. Harry's a good person, you know that. If he decided to try anything with Malfoy he'd end it with you first. We should just leave him alone for now."

"Yeah, alright." Ginny picked her book back up. "I'm sorry I'm being so irritable," she said. "It's just very sudden."

"I don't blame you, Gin." Hermione wrapped an arm around the other girl and hugged her. "Harry will always love you even if you're not dating. You know he will. And so will I." Ginny smiled at her and nodded.

"Yeah, yeah," she laughed. "Go plot Harry's life, I need to study." Hermione smirked and got up off the couch, intending to do just that.

* * *

><p>Over the next few days Hermione got a plan together, while simultaneously attempting to direct each boy's attention to the other whenever possible. She needed a bit of time to fully develop the plan, so she figured putting them in situations where they inadvertently flirted was a good way to use the extra time.<p>

It was on Tuesday of the following week that she decided to push the boundaries a bit. She asked Draco to go out by the lake again in the evening and asked Harry to join. She'd spoken to Ron the day before in order to make sure it would be only her, Draco, Carina, and Harry.

_"I need you to pretend to want to do homework tomorrow,"_she'd said. In return Ron had taken on a revolted expression.

_"Why in _Merlin's_ name would I do that?"_

Hermione carefully introduced her suspicions to Ron. Initially he'd begun yelling at her, shooting down her every word with insults and curses. She'd expected it—after all, Ron hated Malfoy, and, up until now at least, he'd been secure in the knowledge that Harry, his best friend, did too. Not to mention the issue of his sister, who was dating Harry. He'd stormed out of the room and only later in the evening had Hermione been able to talk to him again. He'd eventually given in and listened to Hermione harp on about Harry's feelings and how he deserved to be happy (and slowly explained that she'd spoken to Ginny) and, though reluctantly, he'd finally acquiesced to help her.

_"You're sure about this?"_ he'd asked, looking worried. _"You really think Harry fancies … _him_?"_

_"Yes,"_ she'd said with certainty. _"I really do. I just need to get them alone for a bit and let them talk."_

Ron had sighed resignedly but agreed, so after dinner on Tuesday night Harry and Hermione left the common room without Ron, who rather convincingly reported a sudden drive to do his Charms essay. Harry had been stunned, but gone along with it.

The weather was becoming chilly as the four walked down to the Beech tree by the lake, Carina holding onto Draco's finger loosely.

"Papa, can I look for fishies again?"

"Of course," Draco laughed. Hermione jumped at her chance.

"I'll help you look," she said. Carina squealed with excitement and dragged her father along more quickly toward the lake. Harry and Hermione followed, Hermione smiling broadly and Harry looking as nervous as ever.

Hermione did not sit down next to Draco, but followed Carina to the water's edge. Harry, feeling incredibly uncomfortable, sat down next to Malfoy, who was just out of reach of the shade from the branches and therefore highlighted by the glow of the setting sun.

Harry swallowed tensely.

"She really likes Hermione," he said, fiddling awkwardly with his fingers in his lap.

"You're not kidding," Malfoy laughed. "The kid doesn't stop talking about her."

Harry smiled widely, a sudden burst of happiness shooting through him at the knowledge that Malfoy's daughter liked Hermione so much.

Silence ensued for several minutes, neither boy knowing quite what to say, a definite tension hanging in the air.

Er—Malfoy," Harry began uncertainly. Malfoy looked over at him, his gray eyes seeming to stare straight through him. Harry cleared his throat. "Hermione told me about—er—Carina's mum, and … well, I'm sorry. That's really awful." Malfoy looked toward the lake, his gaze settling on his daughter.

He nodded slowly.

"Thanks," he said. Harry's stomach clenched. "I didn't know her very well. I assume you heard the whole story?"

"Most of it, I think. Hermione told us what you told her."

"'Us'? She told Weasley, too?" he asked, though he didn't look upset. Harry flushed nevertheless. Malfoy smiled. Harry's heart palpitated. "Emilie was just a girl I met during a holiday in France. She was two years older and I was in the middle of an oncoming War." Harry bit the inside of his lip. "I saw her once between the time we left France and when she died. I went to see her just before our sixth year started—a few weeks before Carina was born. We picked out a name during that time and talked about Carina's future."

"How'd you come up with Carina?" Harry asked, remembering the way Hermione had smirked when she'd first heard the little girl's name.

"It's a star formation," Malfoy explained. "All the males in my family are named after constellations. My grandfather, Abraxas, my father, myself, all my ancestors. Carina's not a boy, but I wasn't sure I'd be having another child, so I skewed the tradition a bit." He shook his head, inwardly it seemed.

There was another semi-long silence.

"It changes everything, you know?" Harry whispered eventually. Malfoy quirked an eyebrow. "Knowing that you had a daughter during those years. Sixth year. _Last_year." Harry brought his knees up to his chest and rested his chin there. Malfoy remained silent. Harry was afraid his heart was audible with the way it was thumping against his ribcage. He felt like a schoolgirl with a crush, trying desperately to say the right thing, while simultaneously hating himself for even thinking the word 'crush'. "Do you ever feel like the War changed everything? Not just the obvious, but something else? Something you can't put your finger on?"

He heard Malfoy swallow.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I do."

"But then again," Harry continued, unfolding his legs and sitting up straighter, "I feel like nothing changed sometimes. Voldemort's dead, but I don't feel like I defeated him. Sometimes it's hard to comprehend that so many people are gone."

He looked over at Malfoy and was startled to see that a single tear had slid down his cheek.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." Harry began to reach out toward Malfoy, not quite sure what he was going to do when he touched him, but was waved off when Malfoy shook his head.

"It's fine. I just … I know what you mean. It's always hard to believe my mother's gone."

Harry wanted to kick himself. He'd completely forgotten about that.

_Very tactful, Harry._

Malfoy laughed darkly. "I guess that's karma, eh?"

"No," Harry said softly. "No one deserves that."

"You lost your parents when you were one, Potter."

"Exactly. I was _one_, not eighteen." Malfoy only hung his head and sniffled. Harry had never seen him so vulnerable. It made him feel oddly … special. Privileged to be witness to something so intimate for a boy who'd never willingly shown any emotion at all. And despite how strange it sounded, he thought Malfoy looked quite cute this way—open and exposed.

"I feel so terrible that Carina has no one. No mother, no grandparents. Well, one, but he's in Azkaban. Just me, and I don't know the first thing about raising a child."

"Seems like you're doing okay," Harry said comfortingly. "She's a happy kid far as I can tell."

Malfoy looked up at him suddenly, a look of contemplation on his face. Harry felt himself blushing.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

Malfoy gestured between them. "Talking to me. Being nice. I don't know. It's not like you owe me anything."

Harry felt a little taken aback. He'd just been thinking how nice this was, but of course it couldn't last long. Not when Malfoy was used to being suspicious. Not when their past dictated that they fight.

He sighed.

"Believe it or not, Malfoy, not everyone needs a reason to be nice." Although, Harry realized, he did have a reason, in a sense. The reason was a completely obscure one, though. Malfoy stared at him strangely. Silently. Harry looked away, unable to keep his breathing controlled under the scrutiny of his most recent object of … lust? Interest? "We were all affected by this," he said softly. "I know how much it hurts."

"We should go inside," said Malfoy. Harry felt his throat tighten. He nodded stiffly.

* * *

><p>When Hermione went to join Carina by the lake she'd silently prayed that Harry and Draco would get along by themselves. To her great relief, whenever she looked over she found them both fully intact, presumably talking, though they were sitting rather far apart. If she was right, though, and they did have feelings for each other, they would both be feeling immensely awkward right now and it would make sense that they'd sit so far apart.<p>

She smiled to herself.

Carina was happily leaning over the bank, trying to spot fish as they swam past.

"'Rina," Hermione said, going to sit next to the small girl. Carina sat up and looked at Hermione. "How do you like Harry?"

She pondered for a moment. "I think he's very nice," she said eventually. "Papa likes him."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, leaning forward and grinning excitedly.

"Papa smiles more when Harry's here," she said simply, leaning back over the headland, entirely unaware of the implications of her words. Hermione wanted to hug the little girl and buy her as many fishies as she could ever want.

"Do you think you'd like for Harry to be around more?"

"Oh, yes," Carina said enthusiastically. She squinted into the water, smiling when she spotted a fish. "I think Papa would like that, too."

"How would you like to help me with something?" Hermione said carefully. Carina looked up from the water, eyes wide with excitement.

"Okay!"

"Wonderful. And I'll even get you your very own fishy in return!"

"Really?" Carina squealed.

"Absolutely. But only if you listen very carefully and do your very best!" Hermione said importantly. Carina nodded vigorously. "That's my girl."


	6. Chapter 6

_Because I _know_ everyone here is Potter-crazy enough to notice, I took the liberty of placing Quality Quidditch Supplies in Hogsmeade. :)_

Chapter Six

Saturday was a Hogsmeade weekend. Harry hadn't been planning on going, but Hermione had told him she'd asked Malfoy, and apparently he was going in order to get Carina presents for her birthday, which was the fifteenth: this Tuesday.

When Harry had decided to join he hadn't noticed the growing understanding in Hermione's eyes shine brighter.

They'd all walked down together, Ron holding Carina's hand (who had taken a great liking to him) while the other three talked. It was mostly Malfoy and Hermione, but Harry managed to speak up a few times.

When they reached the main street Malfoy purposefully looked at Hermione, who winked and took Carina's other hand.

"Wanna come to Zonko's with me and Ron?" she asked. Carina grinned excitedly.

"What's Zonko's?"

"Kind of like a toy shop," Ron said mischievously.

"Oh, yes!"

"Be good," said Malfoy, and Carina gave him her biggest, most innocent smile.

"I will, Papa!"

Malfoy sighed but Harry spotted a smile all the same.

"Harry, why don't you go with Malfoy," Hermione suggested, and before anyone could protest she, Ron, and Carina had started off in the direction of the joke shop.

A semi-awkward silence fell around them. Harry had hardly spoken to Malfoy since Tuesday when they'd sat by the lake. They'd merely acknowledged one another's presence with a shared glance or a quick nod of the head. Hermione had spent time with them again on Thursday as well as talking to them quite a bit during classes, and Harry had interacted with Carina a fair bit (who, he didn't mind admitting, he was becoming quite obsessed with), but that was about it. He wasn't sure how to handle this. Only a few days ago he'd begun speaking to Malfoy as a civilized human being after six full school years of hatred and a year on legitimate opposite sides of an all-out war. But that wasn't the part that had his stomach churning and his heart pounding. It was the fact that he was beginning to notice things about Malfoy that he didn't even notice on _other_ blokes, let alone _him_. Like the way he smiled when he was looking at or talking about his daughter. Or how he had two tiny dimples in his cheeks. Even the way his no-doubt expensive clothing fit him perfectly, and how you could tell he had a flat stomach by looking at the place where his shirt tucked into his trousers.

He wished it wasn't an enticing sight, but it was. For the several thousandth time in the past few days he wondered when he'd suddenly found anything like that attractive.

_Since you found out Malfoy was gay_, a little voice in his head supplied helpfully. He inwardly rolled his eyes. It had never even crossed his mind that he'd have to explore his sexuality, but … well, he didn't need any more drama right now. He'd promised himself after the War that he'd take life as it came. This promise was certainly being put to the test.

He was alone with Malfoy now and he wasn't quite sure how to act, especially considering how their last conversation had ended, but he couldn't pretend he wasn't happy to spend some time with him.

"So," he said, feeling his cheeks heat up. Malfoy turned to him, looking both irritated and uncomfortable. "Er—what were you thinking about getting her?" Malfoy stared at him for a moment longer before stalking away. Harry sighed and ran to catch up.

Malfoy was such a _girl_sometimes.

While he wasn't acknowledging Harry, he wasn't making any effort to get rid of him, so Harry tentatively followed Malfoy into Honeydukes.

It was like walking into the past.

"God, I haven't been here in a while," he said, smiling, and looked around. He caught the barest hint of a nostalgic grin on Malfoy's face as well.

"I'm not sure there's much I can get her from here," he said, apparently having given up on being hostile. Harry let out a relieved, albeit quiet, sigh.

"Why?" he asked, beginning to walk further into the store. Malfoy followed. "What kid doesn't like candy?"

"Apparently mine," Malfoy chuckled. Harry looked at him incredulously.

"She doesn't like any kind of sweets? Licorice wands, Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs? Nothing? Have you given her treacle tart? Or Muggle candy, even? Mars Bars?"

"All of the above, actually, except that Muggle candy." Malfoy looked around the store without any real enthusiasm. "She's just not very interested. I suppose I can get her a few things, though… Just because."

"Get her Ice Mice and the like. At least they'll be entertaining."

To his astonishment, Malfoy smiled.

"That's not a bad idea." Harry followed him to the shelves of magical sweets. They had to push their way through crowds of first years, but eventually found a small space.

"Those are disgusting," Harry said, gazing distastefully at the Cockroach Clusters. Malfoy smirked and Harry suddenly wondered if he shouldn't have said anything.

"Don't like bugs, Potter?" he teased. Harry flushed.

"Not in my _candy_."

"I don't suppose Carina will either." Malfoy studied the large array of sweets and ended up taking several each of the Chocoballs, Ice Mice, Fizzing Whizbees, Squeaking Sugar Mice, Pepper Imps, and Jelly Slugs. Harry couldn't help comparing this to the way Narcissa had doted on her son when they were younger. He could vividly recall Malfoy's snarky remarks about the loads of sweets he'd receive in the mail.

He smiled to himself.

"No Chocolate Frogs? Or Peppermint Toads?"

"She detests frogs," Malfoy explained.

"Drooble's gum?"

Malfoy stared at him. "She's three, Potter. She'll choke."

"Oh. Er—right." He flushed brightly, turning even redder when Malfoy smirked and turned in the direction of the counter.

Once outside they both looked around.

"I don't suppose they've left Zonko's," Draco sighed.

"Why? Did you wanna go there?"

"Well, it's the only place I'll find something very useful, isn't it? Where else do I get her something?"

"What about a toy broomstick?"

Malfoy snorted. "Good one, Potter. I suppose you'll be the one tending to her wounds and mopping up her tears when she flies into a wall?"

"Oh, come on," Harry said, a bit excited now. "You should get her a broom! It would be fun!"

"Absolutely not." Malfoy started off toward Zonko's but Harry, determined, grabbed his arm.

"I'll teach her," he said, giddy with excitement. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at the hand on his arm and Harry quickly pulled away, flushing, but continued all the same. "Really! And I'll even deal with her when she gets hurt." And then he had another brilliant idea. "I'll buy it for her! It'll be from me!" Without waiting for Malfoy's response he began dragging him over to Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"This is absurd, Potter!" Malfoy yelled as they entered the store. "I'm not putting my child on a broomstick!"

Harry turned to face him. "If I remember correctly, you were flying on a broom at a young age, weren't you? Mister I-had-a-run-in-with-a-Muggle-helicopter."

Malfoy flushed. "Oh, very funny, Potter. Hilarious. That's entirely different! My parents were…"

"What?" Harry pressed, smirking.

"It was irresponsible of them! I could have gotten hurt!"

"Oh, lighten up," said Harry, pulling him over to the toy broomsticks. "I had one when I was under a year old." Malfoy stopped abruptly and Harry turned to him.

"How… How do you know that..?"

The memory stirred up a small, sad bubble in Harry's stomach, but it wasn't enough to ruin his mood. In fact, he rather liked thinking about it now. Instead of being sad, he determined to think fondly of his parents and the one year he'd had with them.

"I found a picture and a letter at my godfather's house," he explained. Malfoy was listening intently. "From my mum. The picture was of me on a toy broomstick. It was ripped, so you could only see my father's legs behind me. In the letter my mum was telling Sirius how I loved riding it."

"Telling, that," said Malfoy quietly.

"And if your enthusiasm and skill on a broomstick are anything to go by, your daughter will love it as well."

"My skills," Malfoy snorted, but said nothing more on the subject, merely allowing himself to be dragged the rest of the way over.

"Which one do you think?"

There were a lot to choose from. Pink ones with yellow stars, red ones with pink hearts, blue ones, multi-colored ones, ones that resembled the Nimbus series and the Firebolt, and even ones that looked like Muggle broomsticks, just altered a bit.

"Well, she certainly likes the color pink," said Malfoy, his nose scrunched. Harry laughed.

"Pink it is, then." There were different sizes that depended upon age, weight, height, etc. Toy broomsticks were apparently first and foremost designed for safety. "I think this one," he said, reaching for a small pink one located in the section designated for three-year-olds. "She's rather small."

"I swear to Merlin, Potter, if this turns out bad…"

"Oh, relax." Harry inspected the broom, smiling at the thought of Carina flying around a few feet above the ground, her blond hair billowing out behind her. "She'll be with a pro." He winked cheekily and Malfoy mumbled something about arrogant Gryffindor Seekers. Harry then brought the broom to the counter, paid for it, and the two left the shop.

"Oh, good, they've left Zonko's." Malfoy was pointing at the street. Harry followed his finger and saw that, indeed, Ron, Hermione, and Carina were heading toward Honeydukes. Carina was in the middle, holding one of each of their hands.

"Merlin, those two with a child," said Harry, smiling at his two best friends. He felt Malfoy's eyes on him and turned to meet his gaze.

"Do you think they'll get married?"

"Yeah, I do." And he did. It had taken seven years for them to figure it out, but now that they were beginning to explore it Harry thought it would quite possibly last.

"Dear God, Weasley-Granger offspring." Malfoy made a horrendous face and Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"A few months ago I would have said the same thing about you," Harry smirked.

"That might have been a good one, Potter, were you not holding a rather expensive gift for my daughter in your hand."

Harry glared at him before turning around and making his way to Zonko's. He heard Malfoy laughing behind him.

* * *

><p>Carina was browsing the shelves of Honeydukes, though she didn't seem particularly interested in the food, but the magical effects of the candy.<p>

"I've talked to Carina," Hermione told Ron. He looked at her in confusion.

"About what?"

"She told me Draco smiles more when Harry's around." Ron made a sour face. "I told her if she helped me with something that I'd get her a fish."

"What is she helping you with..?"

"Well, she doesn't really understand why her dad smiles more around Harry… I just explained that he made Draco happy. And she wants him to be happy, of course. So I… Well, I told her that I didn't think Harry knew Draco liked him, and that she should tell him."

Ron looked skeptical. "You think Harry will take a three-year-old's word? I don't know, 'Mione, that doesn't seem very—"

"No, no." She held up her hand. "I told her to do it tomorrow. I'll make them both come outside to study. I said she should tell Harry that she thinks her dad has a crush on him—out loud, so that Draco hears."

"Hermione, are you mad?" Ron's eyes had gotten very large indeed. "Malfoy'll go mental!"

"But it's true! And I thought that if you and I took Carina away they could talk about it." Ron looked extremely uncertain. "Those two are stubborn and you know it! If _we_ don't do something _they_never will!"

"Since when are you so Slytherin?" Ron asked, though a small smirk tugged at his lips. "And since when do you care about Malfoy!"

"Since I want Harry to be happy."

Ron sighed and rubbed his eye. "I still don't see how he can … _fancy_him. They hated each other."

"You know, Ron, sometimes hatred that intense is just a cover for something else one doesn't want to admit to oneself."

He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, Dumbledore." He smirked and ducked when Hermione aimed a bag of sweets at his head.


	7. Chapter 7

_This one is quite a chapter. The last one was rather short, so I decided to update early. Enjoy. :)_

Chapter Seven

Harry didn't know why Hermione was acting so suspicious. In fact, even _Ron _was acting a bit odd. The two were smiling more than necessary and Carina, who was in Ron's lap, was giggling even more than usual.

The four of them and Malfoy were under the beech tree doing homework. It was Sunday and they had several essays due tomorrow.

Harry was feeling exceptionally awkward. He'd dreamt about Malfoy last night. He couldn't remember the dream exactly, but he definitely recalled him being there, and he'd woken up with an unusually persistent case of morning wood. The real Malfoy was being terribly quiet and Harry couldn't tell whether it was because of Ron (whom he was not exactly close to as of yet) or something else.

As Harry was trying to focus on a Potions book he was reading Carina came over and tugged on his shirt sleeve.

"Harry," she whispered excitedly. Harry smiled.

"Yes?"

"I have to tell you a secret!"

Harry noticed Malfoy look up. He determinedly stayed focused on Carina.

"What's that?"

Carina made a show of preparing herself before leaning in toward his ear, though not close enough so that the others couldn't hear.

"I think my Papa has a crush on you!" she giggled. Harry felt his face heat up and was sure it had to be at least the color of the sun. Everything that happened next went much too quickly to follow. Ron came over and picked Carina up, who was still laughing, and the two of them and Hermione quickly made their way farther down the bank, out of earshot of him and Malfoy.

Harry's eyes were still wide. He felt frozen. He didn't know what to say. What to do. He looked over at Malfoy, who looked just as stunned.

"Malfoy," he said quietly, but as soon as the words left his mouth Malfoy glared at him and stood up, intent on leaving. Harry bit his lip. What was he supposed to do? Was Carina right? Did Malfoy like him? Why would she have said it if he didn't? And if he _did_ … did _he_ like _Malfoy_? He still wasn't sure what the hell was going on. Everything felt like it was moving so quickly. Yesterday had been the first time they'd really been around each other, let alone spoken for a lengthy period of time!

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to sort everything out. But he realized the longer he waited the farther away Malfoy got, and that, at least, felt wrong. He took a deep, calming breath before standing up, throwing all caution to the wind, and chasing after Malfoy.

"Malfoy, wait!" he called, but the blond didn't turn around. Harry ran faster and just managed to catch up. He grabbed Malfoy's wrist and spun him around.

"I don't wanna hear it, Potter," he spat.

"How do you know what I'm gonna say?" Harry felt the habitual anger boil inside of him and had to push it away. He closed his eyes and took another breath. When he opened them again Malfoy looked skeptical.

"Because there's only one thing _to _say in this situation."

"And what is that?" He stared at Malfoy, long and hard, felt him crumble under the stare. Malfoy finally relaxed his face and looked down.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "Just leave me alone, Potter."

"Malfoy," he said, putting every confusing emotion he was feeling into the word. It felt strange, saying it like that. Malfoy tensed and looked up. Harry swallowed nervously before continuing. If he was going to do this—whatever the hell it was he was going—he was going to do it right. He let go of Malfoy's wrist, which he vaguely realized he could wrap his fingers around entirely. "Remember how, the other day, I said that I know how this all feels? How much it hurts?" Malfoy only nodded, his eyes boring into Harry's unnervingly. Harry clenched his sweaty fists. "Lately … since I've been around you more … yesterday… it …" He couldn't quite form what he was trying to say. It was a big statement.

_But it's true_, he told himself, and it was enough to force the words out.

"You … make it hurt a little bit less," he said to the ground. Something only vaguely familiar was stirring in Harry's stomach. Like a much more intense version of what his feelings had been for Ginny. Malfoy was silent. He could feel him staring. Harry didn't know what to make of the silence so he blindly plowed on, daring to look up. "Is it true? What Carina said?"

There was a short pause and then, to his absolute astonishment, Malfoy nodded, albeit slowly, his expression relaying disbelief. Harry couldn't help but smile. He raised one hand to Malfoy's cheek, enjoying the way his breathing sped up from the simple touch and his eyes bulged.

He couldn't believe this was happening.

"I don't know what the bloody hell is going on." He looked back and forth between Malfoy's eyes, building the courage to ask for permission to do something he'd been itching to do for days now. Something he'd never in a million years thought he'd have the courage—or perhaps lack of common sense—to do. It felt like blindly diving off a cliff. "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly. Malfoy hesitated, but only a second later he nodded, ever so slightly, enough to tell Harry it was alright. Perhaps he didn't think Harry would really do it. He did, though. He looked down at Malfoy's lips once before leaning forward and covering them with his own in a chaste kiss. His heart jumped into his throat and lodged itself there. He lingered for a moment before pulling away, just enough so their noses were touching, and looked into Malfoy's eyes. They were wet. Harry laughed and leaned in again, kissing him harder than before.

Malfoy responded after a few seconds, tentatively at first, but he grew more passionate as his heart rate increased and he seemed to lose himself in the moment.

Harry moved his hand around to grip the nape of Malfoy's neck, his other hand coming up to rest on a cheek. Malfoy had moved his arms around Harry's waist and pulled him closer.

It was as though this was the most normal thing in the world. As though the fact that neither had kissed a boy before didn't matter. Nor the Dark Mark on Malfoy's arm. This was something that was simply not thought about.

To Harry, at least.

"I don't understand," Malfoy breathed between kisses. Harry nipped at his lips, unable to keep from smiling at the sheer sense of fullness that flooded his body from the mixture of Malfoy's smell, his taste, his essence. It felt so forbidden, and that was half the excitement.

"Me either." He kissed him again, this time softly running his tongue along the seam of Malfoy's lips. He pouted when Malfoy pulled away.

"Potter, what... Why are you doing this..? I don't…" He loosened his grip around Harry's waist. Harry quickly reached down and gripped Malfoy's elbows, keeping his arms in place. Their eyes met.

"I told you. I don't know." He sighed in frustration. "You just make everything a little less horrible, Malfoy. The War. The aftermath. Everything. I don't know why. You just do. Maybe it was always there and I just couldn't see it because we were so used to hating each other."

And wasn't _that _a telling statement.

The words spilled out without him having to think about them. It it infinitely more frightening.

Harry tried to kiss him again but Malfoy shook his head, struggling weakly at Harry's embrace. Harry refused to let go. "You're making things up, Potter." He was looking down again. "There was nothing there. I hated you and you hated me. We would've… We would've killed each other if we'd had the cha—"

Harry grabbed Malfoy's chin and forced eye contact once more. Malfoy looked supremely uncomfortable. His eyes were wet again. He was struggling not to cry.

"How can you say that when we've both saved each other's life?" Malfoy's eyes held confusion and something that looked desperately like longing. "At the Manor. In the Room of Requirement. Do you really think that, if we truly hated each other, we'd have risked our own skin?"

"I—"

"No, Malfoy." Harry glanced down at his lips and he heard Malfoy swallow again. "It may not be anything deeper than mutual respect, but it's certainly not hate. I hope there is more, though, because I think I could very easily become addicted to kissing you."

The truth of the statement scared him.

A tear finally escaped and trailed down Malfoy's cheek. Harry wanted desperately to kiss it.

"Give it a chance," he whispered. "You want this as much as I do."

Malfoy was silent for a few more agonizing moments before he said, "Do you know where the Slytherin dorms are?" Harry nodded fervently. "Be outside there at ten. And … bring your cloak."

Harry leaned forward and pecked him once on the lips before releasing him.

"I'll be there." He held Malfoy's stare for only a moment longer and then turned to head into the castle.

* * *

><p>Draco watched Potter go, the taste of him strong on his lips, leaving them tingling.<p>

His trance was broken when he felt his leg being squeezed. He looked down to find Carina hugging his thigh.

"And so the Devil returns," he chuckled. Carina smiled brightly and raised her arms. Draco sighed dramatically as he bent down to pick her up. Weasley and Hermione appeared shortly after, Hermione sporting a triumphant grin while Weasley looked uncomfortable at best.

"Where'd Harry go?" she asked. Draco looked to the castle and back.

"Inside." She raised a brow. "He's fine."

Her face relaxed and she smiled.

"Have a nice time, did you?" Draco faced her entirely so that Carina, whose head rested on his shoulder, couldn't see the conversation.

"Where've you been?" he asked casually, though his face expressed pure frustration. Hermione and Weasley shared a glance.

"Well, we thought—"

"What?" he snapped, cutting her off, losing his temper more quickly than he would have liked. "Please, tell me what you thought."

"Come here, Malfoy," Weasley said quietly. Draco looked over at him, eyes wide. _What?_

"I beg your pardon?"

"Can I just talk to you for a second?" To Draco's astonishment he looked entirely serious. Hermione's eyes were pleading.

"I'll take Carina…"

Draco looked back and forth between them for several seconds, as though waiting for someone to confess this was a joke, before slowly putting Carina on the ground.

"Go with Hermione," he said. Carina broke into a grin and happily grabbed Hermione's hand. Draco looked up at Weasley, who motioned with his head somewhere to the right. Reluctantly, he followed the redhead a few meters away. When they stopped Draco could just see Hermione and Carina sitting on the ground looking closely at the grass.

Weasley looked apprehensive when Draco turned to him.

"Do you…" He nervously rubbed the back of his neck and tried again. "Do you really fancy Harry?" He spoke quietly, almost as though he hoped Draco wouldn't hear.

"What is this about?" Draco was angry. He felt like these two were prying into his life and trying to control it. He'd had enough of that. It was supposed to have ended with the bloody War.

"Look, Malfoy, I don't know how any of this started," he said. "Just a week ago I thought you and Harry hated each other. That was just how it was—like an unwritten law. But then the other day Hermione drops a bloody bomb on me, telling me she thinks you two have some hidden crush on each other—"

"She wh—!"

"Wait," Weasley said sharply, seeming to have found his voice. He looked determined. Confused, but determined. Like he had something he needed to get out. "Harry is my best mate. We've been friends since we were eleven. We fought a War together. I love Harry like a brother. I'm doing this for _him_. Because Hermione seems to think it'll make him happy. And if anyone deserves to be happy, Malfoy, it's Harry. He gave his life for the entire world. Not just wizards. For you and anyone else who would have died by You … by Voldemort's hand if he'd won.

He's dating my _sister_. Ginny loves Harry. I'm going behind _her_ back because this is apparently what Harry really wants, Merlin knows why." Draco clenched his teeth but remained silent. "And if that doesn't mean anything to you, consider this: _I_ still don't like you. I think you're an arrogant prat that doesn't deserve to lick the ground Harry stands on. But you know what? I'm going to do what I can to pull your two-faced head out of your arse long enough to give Harry a chance to be happy because apparently you can give that to him. So don't fuck this up, Malfoy. I swear to Merlin I'll hex your unworthy arse into next week if you hurt him. Whether or not you were lying about it being 'fine' after Harry just stalked off into the castle following that fairly long snog, you'd better _make _it fine. If you have to chase after him, get a bloody move on."

Draco had seen Weasley this passionate before, but never had he seen him so confident and determined. Draco, to his utter humiliation, felt a bit intimidated.

"I'm talking to him tonight," he said quietly. Weasley looked suspicious.

"About?"

Draco purposely did not answer, but instead said, "I need you and Granger to take care of Carina tonight."

"Fine," Weasley said immediately. Draco allowed a small smirk to pull at his lips.

"Taken a liking to my daughter, Weasley?"

"Stuff it, Malfoy," he said, cheeks burning red. "Get a move on with Harry. And remember what I said."


	8. Chapter 8

_I think you'll all like this chapter very much indeed. :) I decided to put it up tonight because I'm gonna be busy moving out of my dorm and whatnot the next few days._

_Also, temperature is referred to in this chapter and I went with Celsius, as that's what is use in the UK. Just to avoid any confusion._

Chapter Eight

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in the Gryffindor common room by the fire with Carina. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were fawning over her. True to her family name, she was bathing in the attention.

"Do you ever braid your hair?" Lavender asked her as she separated the silky strands into three sections.

"Sometimes! Papa isn't very good at braiding," she giggled.

"Boys can't do anything," Parvati teased. Carina laughed. Hermione saw Ron scowl and smiled to herself.

"She really should be going to bed soon, shouldn't she? Draco said nine o'clock and it's nearly ten!"

"Oh, hush," said Lavender. "She can stay up a bit longer."

Hermione sighed and looked to Harry. He was tense.

"Ten o'clock, wasn't it?" He nodded. "Are you leaving soon?" Again, he nodded. She looked to Ron, who shrugged. _Talk to him_, she mouthed. Ron gave her a look that said he had no idea what he was supposed to say. Hermione gestured to Harry with her head, face set, and Ron, grumbling as he did so, finally stood up.

"Harry," he said. Harry looked at him, eyebrows raised in question. "Got a minute?" Harry looked to the clock, hesitated, and then stood as well.

* * *

><p>Harry had no idea what this was about. He was already anxious to go see Malfoy—he didn't know what he'd been thinking when he'd agreed to this. Or even when he'd tried to convince Malfoy to … what? Be with him? Snog him out in the open? He'd been so caught up in the moment—in the taste of Malfoy and the blood rapidly filling his erection—that he hadn't been thinking clearly. And now what? What was he supposed to say to Malfoy when he got there? What was <em>Malfoy<em>planning on saying? Perhaps he'd tell Harry it just wasn't going to happen… Yes, that would be the best. Harry would simply agree, explain that he hadn't known what he'd been thinking, and they could maybe become friendly and that would be the end of it. He'd go back to Ginny.

Harry desperately tried to ignore the horrible sinking sensation in his stomach at that thought.

He cleared his mind of these thoughts as he followed Ron up the stairs to his room, which was just a bit messier than Harry's. Hermione was constantly trying to clean it up.

Ron shut the door behind Harry and turned to face him. He looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Look, Ron, if this about Malfoy you don't—"

"Hang on, Harry." Harry closed his mouth and chewed on the inside of his cheek, his palms becoming sweaty. He and Ron were as close as two friends could be, but Ron had never been very good at talking about these kinds of things and Harry thought that discussing not only his possible attraction to blokes, but attraction to _Malfoy_, might prove a tad awkward.

Except he'd just been telling himself that he was going to stop it with Malfoy, so it didn't matter!

He resolved to hear Ron out before coming to any conclusions.

"Hermione told me last week some time that she thought you fancied Malfoy," he began. "I thought she'd gone barmy. But then today you… I guess you really do like him. And that's okay with me, Harry, it is. As long you're happy. I don't … I don't really know him very well or anything, but—er—if it means that much to you I can try, you know?" Harry could tell Ron was trying to work around directly stating his hatred for Malfoy. He appreciated it, even felt himself smiling, but it also made him uncomfortable. He felt a headache coming on. "And Carina's great. But—er—anyway, I know you're going to see him tonight, so, you know, I just wanted to say that, well, you're my best mate and I'm here for you if you wanted to talk about anything or needed any, you know … support."

Harry thought he'd never seen Ron look so helpless—while talking to him, at least. It was relieving in an incredible way to know that, no matter what (and he thought developing feelings for Malfoy was quite out there), Ron would stick with him. He'd known it already, what with the Horcrux hunt and all, but still.

"Thanks, Ron," he said, and moved in to hug him. Ron patted him awkwardly on the back before they pulled apart. "I was thinking, though… I don't know if… I mean, it's Malfoy, right? What if this is just some … weird thing and I … I get over it, or something. It doesn't make sense. Maybe I should just call the whole thing off." To his surprise, Ron looked sympathetic.

"You snogged his brains out today, Harry," he said, almost as though Harry hadn't known and he was breaking some difficult news. Harry burst into laughter.

"I _know_, but I was thinking about it and maybe I was just caught up in the moment or something!"

"Harry," he deadpanned. "People don't just go around sucking face like that." Harry raised a brow. "Lavender was sixth year! And besides, that was just, you know, teenage hormones. If you were just messing around or … or experimenting, I hardly think you'd be doing it with Malfoy."

Harry sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. He supposed Ron was right. Maybe he was just nervous.

Suddenly, unbidden, Ginny popped into his mind and Harry's stomach churned angrily. He supposed Ron had to have thought of it already. How would he have forgotten? They'd gotten this far, he figured he may as well ask…

"What about… What about Ginny?"

Ron lost a bit of color and looked down.

"Honestly? Hermione said she spoke to her."

_What?_

"She… She spoke to her? But … but how? When? I mean… What?"

Ron looked back up at him, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"I don't know much," he said. "Hermione just said she'd spoken to her when she first told me about her—er—suspicions. Have you talked to her?"

"Who? Ginny?" Ron nodded. "Actually, not for a while, no. Not since… Er—well, not for a while." He thought he'd spare Ron the details of his and Ginny's argument. Ron seemed to guess and blushed fiercely.

"Don't worry about that, Harry," he said. "Just worry about you. And Malfoy."

Harry cast his eyes downward and tried to smile his gratitude but it came out as more of a grimace.

"Something else wrong?"

"I'm just anxious." He swallowed nervously. "I've never … I've never fancied a bloke before." He'd lowered both his voice and his eyes at the end of the sentence.

"Harry." He looked up, feeling like all his anxieties were clear in his eyes. "It's just how some people are. It's not a bad thing. Maybe you still like girls, too. Either way, it doesn't matter. I don't know about Muggles, but it's not uncommon in the Wizarding world. Pureblood families are a bit stricter with first-born sons, but that's just for the sake of the family name. If it feels right, then I say do it. Even if it is with an arrogant ferret." He smiled good-naturedly. Harry grinned and shook his head, shocked into silence that all that had come out of Ron's mouth.

"Does Hermione know about this?"

"About what?" Ron looked a bit taken aback. Harry laughed.

"That your emotional range has grown to about the size of three teaspoons."

Ron punched his shoulder but smiled all the same.

"No way, mate. She loves yelling at me. Best to keep that under your hat."

"Thanks, Ron." He sighed again and looked at the door. Ron's talk had stirred something inside of him—he felt motivated again. He thought back to how he'd felt kissing Malfoy and smiled. Yes, he would do this. He could do this.

"No worries, mate." He went over to the door and held it open for Harry. As he stepped outside Ron said, "Don't forget a rubber johnny, eh?" Harry spun around, mouth wide, prepared to kick Ron in the shin, but Ron shut the door before he had a chance. Harry heard him laughing in his room. He could feel the heat crawling up his neck.

And yet he was smiling as he went to his room to grab his cloak.

* * *

><p>It was just before ten when Harry arrived at the wall hiding the Slytherin common room. He carefully tucked the Marauder's Map into the back pocket of his denims and leaned against the wall, periodically checking to make certain his feet weren't showing. He briefly marveled at the fact that he, Ron, and Hermione all used to be able to sneak around the castle beneath the cloak. They really had broken a lot of rules. He smiled to himself, remembering so vividly the time he and Hermione had snuck Norbert up to the top of the tallest tower and left the cloak afterward in their haste to return to the dorms.<p>

His smile turned into a quiet laugh when he realized it had been Malfoy to tip off Filch and then cause him, Hermione, and Neville to lose a total of 150 points for Gryffindor. Malfoy had been such a pain the arse when he was little.

Harry was surprised to find that he remembered this fondly—almost like a silly rivalry in a silly past. Of course, the silly rivalry had turned into something much more extreme, but he didn't like to think of the young Malfoy as the same one who'd been on the Tower the night of Dumbledore's death. They'd both been influenced by his father, but the young one was so much more innocent—his pranks so much more juvenile. Tipping Filch off in order to get them in trouble didn't amount to anything when taking into consideration his attempt to cast an Unforgivable on Harry in their sixth year.

Harry sighed, puffed his cheeks and let out a long, slow breath. This whole thing—this thing with Malfoy—was not something he'd have ever expected.

The sound of footsteps could be heard to his right and Harry squinted in the dark, just able to make out Malfoy's bright blond hair shining in the gloom of the dungeon corridors.

When he came close to the entrance (Harry still found it mildly impressive that the Slytherins managed to memorize its location) he slowed his pace, peering around cautiously in the dark. Harry saved him the trouble of searching by reaching out and gently touching his arm. Malfoy gasped and jumped but quickly regained his composure. Harry could just make out a soft blush on his cheeks at having been startled like that.

"Merlin, Potter, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Stop complaining and get inside," said Harry, humor in his voice. Malfoy scowled, though there was no real conviction in it, and quickly muttered the password, allowing Harry to clamber inside before him. Harry followed him through the semi-familiar common room, past the hordes of Slytherins talking and doing homework (none of whom paid Malfoy any attention), and down a hallway that Harry didn't remember from last time. He supposed the Slytherin eighth years, too, had gotten their own rooms.

He pressed his lips together in utter embarrassment at himself when he felt his cock stir at the thought.

Malfoy's was on the right side of the end of the hallway. He let Harry in and then closed the door behind them, making sure to lock it.

Harry noticed two beds: one that looked like his own and another, smaller one which he presumed was for Carina. The quilt on hers was not decorated with Slytherin colors like Malfoy's, but with pink and white plaid. Harry was pleased to note that it matched the broom he'd gotten her quite well.

He dropped his cloak on the floor and turned to Malfoy's bed where he found Malfoy sitting, watching him curiously.

"Did McGonagall give you the quilt?"

"I ordered it. Carina hated the standard set." He seemed both annoyed and amused by this. "Just watch, she'll be a Hufflepuff. Or worse, a Gryffindor." He smirked at Harry, who rolled his eyes.

"Not with that stunt she pulled today, she won't." Malfoy's smirk dropped in the space of a millisecond. Harry felt the atmosphere change; the temperature seemed to shift until Harry could have sworn it was well past forty degrees. His hands were sweating and his face felt hot.

He moved closer to Malfoy's bed and when the blond made no sign of protest tentatively sat down next to him.

"Guess we're not beating around the bush, eh?" Malfoy said quietly.

"Seems pointless, doesn't it? We both know why we're here."

Malfoy nodded his agreement but said nothing. Harry waited a few moments, but when it became clear Malfoy wasn't going to speak first he gathered all of his Gryffindor courage and took the initiative.

"I meant what I said today." Silence. "That you make everything hurt a little bit less." Malfoy's eyes were trained somewhere on the ground in front of him, no hint of expression on his face. Harry cracked his knuckles idly and let them flop down on his legs. "Ron and Hermione … they're there for me. They've always been there for me. They're my best friends. But that's just it, you know? It's only half the picture. I need someone else, too. Like they have each other." He could sense that Malfoy was uncomfortable by the way he tensed up. His body was frigid. Harry swallowed thickly, hoping he wasn't digging himself into a hole. "Ginny, she … she was then. My adolescence. She was part of a past life. She was there for me during the War. Being with her was … it was part of the War."

"And I'm not?" Harry looked over, startled by Malfoy's voice, so quiet even in the otherwise silent room. "I'm not part of the War, Potter?" He looked hurt. As though there really could only be one answer to that question.

But he wasn't part of the War. He _was_, of course, but not _this_Malfoy. Harry didn't know how to explain it.

"You _were_, just … just not you_ now_." Malfoy raised a brow. Harry huffed, frustrated. He stared at the floor, trying to think of a way to explain it. It was almost like this wasn't Malfoy anymore. It was Malfoy, just not …_Malfoy_. This was more…

"Draco," he whispered, and Malfoy's head snapped in his direction, like Harry'd cursed loudly. Harry smiled, knowing he'd figured it out. He looked at Malfoy—_Draco_—and grinned softly. "You were Malfoy. You were my enemy. By default. But that's not what you are now, don't you get it? _This_ is _Draco_." He poked him gently in the chest and Draco's eyes followed. He looked slowly back up at Harry, his eyes once again in danger of becoming wet with tears. Harry dropped his hand but continued to look straight into Draco's eyes. "You're like a needle in the haystack or something." He laughed, shaking his head. "I know it sounds cheesy, but it's true. So much misery and death and … and horror came out of the War. But then something good came out of it, too. Even if it was just one little thing surrounded by everything else." Draco looked like he knew what Harry was about to say, but he couldn't believe he was really going to say it. He was breathing only a bit more heavily than normal. It spurred Harry onward. "I lost so much. So much family, so many friends… But I gained things, too. I just didn't realize it before. I was so busy focusing on what I'd lost and enjoying what I had left." Harry brought a hand up to Draco's cheek, who didn't move a muscle, and slowly, carefully, slid it around until he gripped the back of his neck.

He glanced down at Draco's lips and back up at his eyes, moving back and forth between them as he inched closer, heart pounding at the thought of kissing him again, trying to detect any signs of reluctance. But when he got close enough to feel Draco's breath on his lips and still he hadn't pulled away, Harry shut his eyes and closed the rest of the space between them.

Like last time, it was a tentative kiss at first. But unlike last time, they didn't pull away before it began to heat up. Draco was breathing heavily, making his kisses choppy and short but frantic. The desperation made Harry hot. He could feel his pulse in his fingers and in his ears as he brought another hand up to grip the side of Draco's face. He was very quickly losing control, his previously flaccid cock filling with blood alarmingly fast. Before he could think much about what he was doing, and without detaching their lips for too long at once, he climbed on top of Draco, straddling his waist, and moved him backwards on the bed.

When he had Draco on his back, panting and whimpering quietly on every other breath, he latched his mouth instead onto Draco's neck. He could taste the sweat and the cologne and, somehow, the arousal, which was thick in the air around them. He lapped at Draco's neck and his throat like a starving man being offered food. Draco's hands clutched at his hair, tugging arbitrarily when Harry bit down on a sensitive spot. His pulse fluttered frenetically under Harry's tongue.

Beneath him, he could feel Draco parting his legs, unconsciously it seemed, allowing more direct contact between their equally straining cocks. Harry found Draco's hands with his own and entwined their fingers at the same time that he closed his eyes and pushed his hips forward. Draco gasped at the friction and arched up. Harry was breathing heavily onto Draco's sweat- and spit-soaked neck as he began to grind mindlessly against him.

The only sounds in the room were that of Harry's heavy panting and Draco's occasional, quiet whimpers, along with the soft sound of denim against fabric.

Harry could so clearly feel Draco's cock through his trousers, against his own erection, and he squeezed his eyes shut ever more tightly as the pressure built in his groin. Never before had this kind of thing occurred to him. Rubbing frantically against another man. But it felt so good. And the fact that it was _Draco_—Harry bit his lip harshly as his world shrunk and continued shrinking until it centered on the places where their bodies molded together.

"Draco," he whispered, and he heard Draco moan softly in response. He felt like he couldn't breathe but continued to rock against the warm, responsive body.

He wasn't ready for it when his vision went white.

He buried his face once more in Draco's neck, muffling the low groan that accompanied his orgasm. He vaguely registered the feel of Draco's body shuddering beneath him. He continued to move against him until the waves of pleasure began to subside.

Harry opened his eyes and swallowed. He smelled Draco. Sweat, sex, and Draco. Their fingers were still twisted together, though loosely now, and Harry felt his hands throbbing from having been squeezed so tightly.

He breathed out and sat up, his back meeting Draco's legs, which were propped up behind him. Draco was staring at the ceiling, though he didn't look focused, and he was breathing heavily. Harry couldn't help thinking he looked rather captivating this way: strands of his blond hair stuck to his forehead, his face and his neck glistening, and the front of his nice white shirt damp with sweat.

With a small, satisfied smile Harry leaned down and captured Draco's lips in a slow kiss. When he pulled away Draco was staring at him.

Harry pulled his wand out of his denims and cast a Cleaning Charm on both of them, spelling away the mess inside their trousers. He then crawled off of Draco and offered a hand to help him up. They sat before each other, both feeling a little awkward, and yet Harry could sense somehow that everything was okay.

What happened now, though? He looked at Draco, so far from perfect, and yet he felt a strong attraction to him. He wanted to make him happy. To make him feel pleasure like that again. To help him with his daughter.

To be _with_him, essentially, he supposed.

"Draco," he said quietly. Draco looked at him. "What would you say if I told you I wanted to be with you?"

Draco bit his lip and looked down.

"…Be with me how?"

Harry lifted his chin and studied his eyes. He knew Draco was fully aware of what he meant.

"In every sense of the word."

"I'd think you were lying."

Harry leaned in and kissed him. "And if I wasn't?"

"I'd think you were a stupid Gryffindor."

Harry laughed lightly, shaking his head. He tried again.

"But what would you _say_?"

Draco took a moment to respond. Harry didn't think he was contemplating his answer, but building the courage to say it. He took a deep breath and finally spoke.

"I would ask you if that was a proposition."

Harry smiled. "It is."

Draco shook his head, a small, happy grin pulling his lips upward.

"Then yes."


	9. Chapter 9

_I have to say, this is one of my favorite chapters. I hope you all like it. :)_

Chapter Nine

Draco couldn't help smiling. He was alone in the Room of Requirement with Hermione—whom he'd begun calling by her first name, as if things couldn't have gotten stranger—and Weasley, decorating for Carina's birthday. Harry had been the one to suggest the Room. He and Draco had gone to check it out beforehand to make sure it was still usable. The walk to the blank stretch of wall had been silent and a little nerve-wracking. Draco had been so ready for the door to open up to a destroyed room, Crabbe's ashes among the filth.

Harry had walked past the wall, asking for a simple, plain room, anything that would confirm that the magic was still intact, and when the door had appeared he'd looked at Draco for a few moments before holding his hand and pushing it open.

It had been very anticlimactic. They'd faced a small closet, entirely empty, and nothing more. Draco had heard Harry sigh before turning to face him.

"Still works," he'd whispered. And then he'd kissed Draco chastely on the lips and pulled away to look into his eyes. "I'm glad I saved you."

"Me too." He'd felt at that moment, for the first time since agreeing to try a relationship with Harry, that he'd done the right thing in saying yes. Although he'd been harboring a small crush on the boy wonder for about a week before anything had transpired, it had been difficult to agree to date him, if only because it felt too quick to be real. To mean anything. Even after the way Harry had kissed him and whispered his name before climaxing… Draco just hadn't been sure.

This, though. This meant something. He couldn't be sure why, but it made a difference. He was still a bit nervous, and rightly so, he thought, as both of their feelings had come out of nowhere. But for now, this felt right.

Which was precisely why he continued to smile even as he worked with Weasley and Hermione to decorate the small, cozy room that had appeared when he'd walked past the wall an hour ago.

Ribbons and streamers were flying from Hermione's wand and draping themselves elegantly across the ceiling, Weasley was wrapping the mountain of presents in the corner, and Draco was busy dusting glitter over the surface of every piece of furniture he could get to. The food, thanks to the Room, had been neatly arranged on a pretty pink table, along with a bunch of pink and purple bean bag chairs and a sofa. They'd found that the Room couldn't quite do everything it used to, which was why Hermione was putting up streamers and Draco spreading glitter, but the overall room was adorable and he knew his daughter would love it.

There weren't too many people coming. The four of them, of course, and Hermione had invited Lavender Brown, the Patil twins, Luna Lovegood, Weasley's sister, and Neville Longbottom. Harry had laughed and grabbed his hand when this information had been revealed.

"It'll be fun for Carina," he'd said, kissing Draco on the cheek.

The two hadn't been hiding their relationship, but they hadn't announced it to the school, except of course to Weasley and Hermione. And the Weasley girl, who Harry had had to talk to. He hadn't spoken to Draco much about that.

Other people had noticed, though, in classes and corridors and in the Great Hall. It had been only two days and Draco thought the whole of Hogwarts was privy to their personal information. No one had said anything directly. At least, not to him. He imagined Harry got heckled a bit more. Especially considering who he was. No one besides the golden trio seemed to want anything to do with him and Draco was just fine with that. Weasley had even been attempting civility and Draco supposed it was more than he deserved, loathe as he was to admit it.

Just as Draco was about to ask why Weasley was wrapping a small fish tank there was a tap on the door and then it opened inwards. Lavender Brown poked her head in, smiled, and then strolled casually inside, a large present in her hands.

"Hello!" she said with a grin. Draco raised a brow and looked to Hermione, who smirked at him before flicking her wand and causing the stream of ribbons to cease. Behind Lavender were the Patil twins, each carrying a present as well.

"Oh, good," Draco said, folding his arms. "I was hoping to thoroughly spoil her before the age of four."

"Oh, hush, Malfoy," one of the twins—Parvati, he assumed, due to her red and gold tie—said. "Like you were any better."

He looked to Hermione in shock, who merely giggled. Was everyone going to remind him of the way he used to act? It certainly seemed so.

"What an adorable room!" Padma said, looking around fondly.

"Oi, bring the presents over here." The three girls looked to Weasley, who was finishing up the last gift, and added their presents to the not-quite-modest pile.

"Do you know where Luna, Neville, and Ginny are?" Hermione asked. She'd sat down next to Weasley and was helping him to organize the pile. "Harry should be bringing Carina around in the next twenty minutes or so."

"Neville said they'd be coming soon when we left. Luna was with Ginny in her dorm apparently." Lavender glanced at Draco so quickly he could have been imagining it. One look at Hermione's face, though, told him she'd seen it too. She hadn't looked at him, but she'd bitten her lip almost imperceptibly. Weasley, too, looked uncomfortable.

"Oh. Well, I certainly hope they hurry. I told Harry one o'c—"

"Sorry we're late!" Longbottom hurried inside the room, Luna trailing in behind him and the Weaslette behind her. She was staring at the ground, her cheeks redder than normal. Draco scowled and sat down in a chair at the table. Neville was apparently carrying all of their gifts because his arms were full. Hermione rushed over to help and together they put them with the rest. Draco glared at the three new presents, dying to know what Ginny Weasley had gotten his daughter.

Before anything had a chance to become awkward Lavender sat down next to Draco, smiling brightly, and he raised a brow at her. Everyone in the room was watching, even Hermione, though she was trying to hide it.

"Yes?" he asked smoothly.

"We were just wondering…" she began, and Draco knew immediately it couldn't be anything good. He sat up straighter, his folded arms going rigid. Lavender looked to Parvati, whose face went red, and giggled. She looked back to him and placed her arm on the table, leaning a bit closer. He felt suddenly like he was being interviewed by Rita Skeeter.

"You were wondering..?"

"Well, what's the story?"

He swallowed. "What story?" he asked tightly.

"Behind your daughter, of course!"

"Lavender!" Everyone turned to see Hermione, her cheeks red, glaring at the tactless girl. "That's not your business."

"Well excuse me for wondering," she huffed. Her smile didn't leave entirely though and she looked backed to Draco. "She was French, wasn't she?" Draco clenched his teeth. "She has a teeny accent sometimes. And she calls you Papa. It's absolutely adorable!"

"Oh!" Hermione's sudden yelp distracted even Lavender. She was looking at a small coin. "Harry and Carina will be here in five minutes! Everyone start finding your hiding places!"

Draco could have kissed Harry for his timing. Before his eyes everyone began to scramble around the room looking for the cleverest spot. Weasley and Hermione hid behind the presents (Draco snorted at the fact that this was a possibility). Weaslette and Luna ducked behind one bean bag chair while Longbottom used another. The Patil twins crouched behind a couple of chairs and Lavender went behind the sofa. Draco stood against the wall next to the door, ready to greet Harry and Carina first when they walked in.

"Everyone ready?" Weasley whispered. There was a general murmur of consent. A small click could be heard and all the lights in the room flew behind the pile of presents.

They all sat that way, crouched and ready in the dark, for about three minutes before one loud knock echoed off the door. Everyone tensed. Draco could hear Carina babbling away to Harry outside and smiled.

"But Papa said we could get pink lights for Christmas if I was really good and—"

"Carina," Harry cut her off, a smile in his voice. "Open the door, sweetheart." The pet name made Draco's heart swell. He was itching to grab Harry and kiss him within an inch of his life.

The handle jiggled and then the door swung inward. Carina stepped inside first, looking around the dark room in confusion, and then Harry, who shut the door behind them.

Another click and the lights flew back to their original position from behind the presents where Weasley had been storing them in what looked like a silver cigarette lighter. Draco nearly laughed at Carina's expression but was saved when everyone in the room jumped up and shouted, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Carina squealed in excitement and Harry laughed. Draco came over and knelt down next to his daughter, who turned to him, an enormous smile lighting up her face, and pulled her into a hug.

"Happy birthday, my darling," he whispered. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and squeezed. When she let go she dashed further into the room, soaking up the birthday wishes and cheek-pinches from everyone else in the room, none of whom seemed to tire of her. Draco stood and looked at Harry. He pulled Draco over by the loops on his denims and kissed him directly on the mouth. Draco felt him smile into it.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure," Harry said, pulling away and smiling at Draco. "I hope Ron and Hermione weren't too bad."

"I think I could get used to them," Draco laughed. He was delighted when Harry's entire face lit up.

"You have no idea how much that means to me." He kissed Draco again, and then again, and one more time because he couldn't seem to help it.

"Oi, you two, care to join the festivities?" Harry and Draco looked over to find Weasley mock-glaring at them, an eyebrow raised. Harry chuckled, kissed Draco once more, and then dragged him further into the room.

The small party unfolded easily. First they ate, and Draco was pleased to note that Carina did as well. When they'd almost finished Harry called out, quite out of nowhere, "Kreacher!" and a vaguely familiar house-elf appeared, bowing low in front of Harry.

"How can Kreacher serve Master Harry?" the small elf asked excitedly. Most of the table hadn't seemed to notice his appearance, as he was directly between Harry and Draco's seats.

"Can you get the cake, please, Kreacher?" The elf nodded vigorously and disappeared again with a crack. Harry looked at Draco, whose brow was quirked, and laughed. "What?"

"I'm sorry, did I miss something? When did you obtain an elf?"

"That's Kreacher," he explained. "I inherited him from Sirius when he died."

"Wait," Draco said, understanding beginning to dawn on him. His stomach clenched. "You mean that elf was the Blacks'? That's..?" Harry nodded. Draco swallowed hard, putting the pieces together. Sirius's mother, Walburga, Draco's great aunt, had been close to his own mother. He imagined her visiting her aunt's house when she was young. She'd no doubt known Kreacher. Harry seemed to guess his train of thought because he laid a hand on Draco's thigh.

"He loved your mum," he whispered, and Draco could sense some other emotion behind those words; an emotion he couldn't place. Draco bit his lip. Harry squeezed lightly. "And you."

"What?" Draco looked at him, confused. "I never knew him."

"When I first inherited him he hated me. I hated him. He… Er—well, he made things … _difficult _fifth year. In a number of ways. And then sixth year I…" He trailed off, his cheeks going exceptionally red, and rubbed the back of his neck. Draco couldn't understand where this was going and how it had to do with him.

"You what?"

Harry was silent. He seemed to be thinking. Finally, he said, "I'll explain later, yeah?"

Draco nodded slowly. "I'm holding you to that." Harry smiled.

"Deal."

Kreacher appeared again moments later in the company of another house-elf, both holding a fabulous cake, one that would have probably reached Draco's waist.

"Thanks, guys," Harry said with a smile. "The icing looks beautiful, Winky." The two elves bowed so low that their noses touched the ground. Kreacher stole a quick glance at Draco before they both disappeared once more. Harry placed the enormous pastry on the table and called everyone's attention. There was a great fuss over the cake and a lot of squealing from Carina, but Harry eventually managed to gather everyone's attention long enough to sing to Carina before they dug in.

* * *

><p>About an hour and a half later Draco sighed, exhausted, as he shut the door behind Lavender, who was the last one to leave. Hermione was charming the presents so that they could easily be carried back to Draco and Carina's room, Weasley was sitting near her with a piece of cake, and Harry was holding Carina and dancing, both laughing like they hadn't a care in the world.<p>

"Why don't we open those here?" Draco said. Hermione looked over at him.

"Oh, okay." She looked back to the presents. "Actually, that's a better idea. We can leave the paper in here then." Harry put Carina down and the little girl dashed over to the presents, sitting down before them.

The four of them sat down next to her, Hermione beside the presents.

"Alright," she said, picking up a large one and checking the name on top. "This one's from Lavender." She handed it to Carina, who promptly ripped the paper off, revealing a lovely set of earrings and matching necklace.

"Oh!" she squealed. "Harry, can you put them on me?" Harry leaned over and draped the necklace around her neck, fastening it in the back while Draco held the blond hair away. Hermione helped her with the earrings.

The next one was from Neville, who'd gotten her an adorable stuffed monkey. The monkey sat on her lap as she opened the strangest dress Draco had ever seen from Luna, more jewelry from the Patil twins, a number of things from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes from Ginny Weasley (Harry had blushed furiously and Draco had remained silent as Carina had excitedly picked through the items), and several toys from Zonko's from Ron.

When Hermione handed Carina her present Draco knew immediately what it was. The fish tank he'd spotted earlier. And that meant…

After Carina had ripped open the paper and looked to Hermione in excitement Hermione handed over a small bowl containing three gorgeous, rainbow fish. Draco's mouth fell open and Hermione smirked, refusing to make eye contact.

"Thank you!" Carina shouted, and raced over to hug Hermione around the neck. The two shared a conspiratorial grin that Draco was sure he wasn't imagining.

"You're welcome," she laughed. "We'll get them set up later. Open the rest of your presents right now."

She obeyed, though a smile was stuck on her face. She seemed to love the many and varied gifts from her father, everything from candy to toys to books, and was nearly exploding with joy by the time she received the thin package from Harry.

When the toy broomstick was revealed Carina's eyes went wide and she looked to Harry.

"Is this for me?" she whispered. Harry burst into laughter.

"Of course!"

"Oh, thank you!" she shrieked, and dove at him with a hug. He chuckled and hugged her back.

"You're welcome," he said, petting her hair. "I'll help you with it tonight, okay?"

"Okay!" She plopped herself down in Harry's lap and continued to marvel at the broomstick, inspecting it in her own lap like a precious gem. Harry smirked at Draco, who rolled his eyes.

* * *

><p>Harry had helped Carina try out her toy broomstick for about an hour in Draco's room later that evening. She'd been nervous, but eventually managed to stay upright while the broom hovered about a foot in the air for a few minutes. Her proud smile had warmed Harry's heart.<p>

Now Draco was showering and Harry was putting Carina to bed. She held a stuffed elephant in one arm and her new monkey in the other. Emilie was sleeping at the foot of the bed.

Harry sat down and pulled the quilt up to Carina's chin and tucked her in, laughing when she smiled and wiggled around to get comfortable.

"Did you have fun today?" he asked.

"Mhm," she mumbled sleepily. Her thumb had found her mouth and her eyes were slowly drooping closed. "Harry?" she said around the digit.

"Yeah?"

"What's a crush?"

Harry's stomach knotted up and he froze.

"What do you mean?" he asked, hoping she meant _anything _other than what he knew she meant. After all, she'd used the term only a few days ago and it had been a catalyst. Why in the world would she ask what it meant?

Carina dropped the thumb from her mouth and yawned, as though the conversation was not especially important. As though she was merely curious.

"Hermany said Papa has a crush on you. What does that mean?"  
>It was like a veil had been lifted. In that one sentence Harry was able to deduce what had happened that day beneath the beech tree. He finally understood the way Hermione had been acting.<p>

And he coudn't find it in his heart to be mad at her because, after all, look where it had gotten him.

He was tucking Draco's daughter into bed while Draco himself, Harry's_ boyfriend_, showered.

But now Harry was faced with a dilemma. He could expain to her that he had feelings for her father, that her father had feelings for him, but would she understand that? Would she understand that the feelings he and Draco shared weren't platonic, but romantic? Did three-year-olds understand that? Would she get that it was more than a crush, because that didn't cover the way he felt about Draco?

Would she ask about her_ mother_?

Harry sighed and looked to the bathroom door and back at Carina.

"When someone has a crush on someone else," he began, "they ... have feelings for them. They like them more than as a friend."

"But I thought you and Papa were friends!" Carina looked panicked. Harry laid a hand on her arm.'

"We are friends," he chuckled. "It's just that it's a little bit more than friends."

He had no idea how to explain the concept without using the word 'love,' and he desperately wanted to avoid that. For now.

"Like best friends?" she asked, her smile returning.

"Carina," he said softly, "a crush is another word for ... well, a less_ extreme _word for—er—love."

Merlin, he didn't know how to talk to children. _Extreme?_ He was sure she wouldn't understand that. He didn't want to even_ begin_to imply that he was in love with Draco. He wasn't. That wouldn't make sense. It was too soon.

He bit his lip.

"Your daddy and I are ... he's my boyfriend. When Hermione told you that your daddy has a crush on me, she meant that he ... really likes me. And I feel the same way. I care a lot about your dad."

"Boyfriend?" she said, looking perplexed. "But you're a boy, too!"

Harry swallowed thickly. Merlin, this was difficult.

"Two boys can ... have a crush on each other, too," he said.

"So ... is that why you make Papa so happy? Because he has a crush on you?"

Harry laughed softly, figuring this was the best he'd be able to do without breaching subjects that simply weren't appropriate to breach.

"Yes. And he makes me happy, too."

Carina smiled. "Will you stay?" she asked. The words brought back achingly sad and scary memories, but he pushed them away. At least the conversation was over.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep, of course." He made to lie down but Carina stopped him with a small hand.

"No," she said. "Will you stay with me and Papa?"

Harry hadn't cried in a long time, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could manage. This little girl had no one in the world but her father and, from it what sounded like, he was unhappy most of the time. Her situation—it hit home.

In that moment he knew he wouldn't—_couldn't_—leave these two. He was a part of their lives as much as they were a part of his. And the strangest part was that he couldn't help but smile.

Harry leaned over and kissed Carina's forehead, letting his lips linger on her soft skin for a moment, thinking about how much he loved her, about Draco, about his mum and dad...

"I promise," he whispered, and she reached up and hugged his neck.


	10. Chapter 10

_I told a few of you that there would be fourteen chapters, but I just recently did some editing and added another chapter. So that's fifteen now. :)_

Chapter Ten

Harry decided not to tell Draco about his and Carina's conversation. It felt private.

Nor did he confront Hermione. He decided he would let her think she'd successfully pulled a very Slytherin move without anyone finding out. She deserved it. Harry had Draco now.

For the next few weeks things went relatively well. Those who had attended Carina's birthday party said hello to her at every opportunity, though they did not bestow the same courtesy upon Draco, except Luna, who seemed to be the only one willing to forgive.

Harry could tell it made Draco uncomfortable. After all, Luna had been his prisoner for quite some time during the previous year.

Seamus and Dean had been odd. They'd finally asked Harry if it was true, if he was dating Malfoy, and when he'd said yes they'd both seemed to simply accept it. Dean, Harry sensed, felt a bit more hesitant, and he was certain it had something to do with the dungeons in Malfoy Manor as well.

Ginny was another story. She liked Carina—Harry could tell. But because she was still upset about losing Harry (and refused to talk to him) and disliked Draco, she was at least tactful enough not to fawn over Carina at all. Harry was grateful. While it clearly didn't make Draco happy that everyone else ignored him and not his daughter, he thought Ginny might have been too much.

He was also glad Draco had forgotten to bring up the bit about Kreacher that had come up during Carina's birthday party. He was anxious to avoid describing the way he'd kept tabs on him like a stalker sixth year.

On a Tuesday in the beginning of October the five of them made their way to Transfiguration, Carina's hand wrapped loosely around Harry's finger.

Ron and Hermione sat together at one desk and Harry, Draco, and Carina at another, Carina once again scribbling on a piece of parchment.

The new teacher, Professor Falldale, was in the middle of a supremely boring lecture when Harry felt a sudden warmth on his thigh. His eyes went wide and he looked down to see a pale hand resting just above his knee. When he looked up, he found Draco smirking, though he still seemed to be taking notes.

Harry subtly moved his hand on top of Draco's and squeezed lightly. He heard Draco chuckle.

"What are you doing?" Harry whispered, his eyes still on the professor.

"Taking notes," Draco replied casually. Harry couldn't decide whether to be annoyed, turned on, or amused.

"You're touching my leg."

"I like your leg."

Harry huffed. Again, Draco chuckled.

"Stop touching my leg."

"Hush, Harry, we're in class."

Harry's jaw dropped and he stared at Draco. He was such a cheeky little brat! And with his daughter sitting right next to him!

"Are you _trying _to cause a scene?"

"I'm not doing anything," Draco said, his smirk growing by the second. And then his hand moved higher so that it rested just below Harry's cock. Harry bit his lip.

"Draco!" he hissed.

But Draco didn't move his hand. As much as Harry begged and squirmed he kept his hand at a teasingly close distance to Harry's now-hard dick until class ended. When it did, everyone but Harry stood up. His cheeks were flaming and he was desperately trying to cool himself down.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione sighed, tapping her foot gently. "We're taking care of Carina, remember? Draco's seeing McGonagall."

The rest of the class stared only a bit more than they normally would, but, as it was Harry, the savior of them all, no one pried and no one asked questions.

"Yes, Harry, please try and move along. I don't wanna be late."

Harry glared at Draco. He took a deep breath, thanked Merlin for his school robes, and stood to leave the classroom with his friends.

Once outside Hermione picked Carina up and turned to Draco.

"How long is the meeting, do you know?"

"Not a clue," he said. Harry watched as Draco ran a hand through his already-perfect hair, wondering why he'd never before appreciated it. "I set the meeting up myself. I just wanted to discuss how things have been going and properly thank her for everything."

"That's sweet of you," Hermione said. "Alright, well good luck. We'll take her outside. You wanted to play with the broom again, didn't you?" she asked Carina. Carina nodded enthusiastically.

"Be careful," Draco sighed, looking directly at Harry. Harry kissed him lightly on the mouth and smiled.

"I wouldn't let her get hurt. I'll see you later."

* * *

><p>Draco knocked gently on the door to McGonagall's office. A crisp "enter" could be heard on the other side a moment later.<p>

She was sitting behind what Draco would always think of as Dumbledore's desk, though he'd only been in the room a few times. She nodded in greeting and gestured for him to take a seat in the chair before the desk.

"Can I offer you anything to drink, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked. Draco shook his head. "Very well. What can I do for you?"

Draco suddenly felt a bit awkward. He'd never really thanked anyone for anything in his life—not something this big, anyway. He cleared his throat.

"I wanted to thank you again for allowing me to bring Carina to school, professor," he said. He was surprised to see a small smile appear in place of the stern, straight-lipped expression she usually wore.

"It seems I was not mistaken in letting you do so. She's not caused any trouble." He could see her working back a smirk. It was a little ominous. Did McGongall _smirk_? "I must admit, Mr. Malfoy, you've done a fine job as a father so far."

He felt the heat suddenly fill his face and knew he must have been Weasley-red.

"Thank you, professor," he said quietly. There was a slight shift in the atmosphere and Draco could tell she was about to say something else embarrassing.

"I don't know how appropriate this is to bring up," she said, and he looked up, confused, "but you've proven that Mr. Potter did the right thing in vouching for you, Mr. Malfoy."

He was sure he couldn't have blushed more if she'd started speaking about his and Harry's sex life.

Well…

"Thank you." He hoped he wasn't making too much of a fool out of himself, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Ma'am," he added quickly. She nodded.

"It was your daughter's birthday recently, was it not?"

Draco's eyebrows both shot up in surprise. "Er—yes," he said stupidly. "How did you know?"

She didn't answer, merely smiled again, reminding him eerily of Dumbledore. "Tell her happy birthday."

"I will. Thank you."

"Will that be all, then?"

Draco tried to run quickly through the things he'd been planning on saying in the meeting, but he kept drawing a blank. The unexpected demeanor of his previously stern professor had thrown him for a loop.

He could only nod.

"Good. I'm certain Mr. Potter does not want to teach broomstick lessons by himself."

Draco had been about to stand up but found himself suddenly stuck to his chair, mouth open. When he realized what he was doing he quickly snapped his jaw shut. He desperately wanted to ask, but somehow knew better.

As he stood to leave his eyes wandered to the place where Dumbledore's portrait hung, the old man seemingly in a deep slumber.

It could have been a trick of the light, but Draco could have sworn he saw Dumbledore's lips twitch into a smile.

* * *

><p>Draco sat down on the grass at the far end of the pitch and watched as Harry, Hermione, and Weasley helped Carina with her toy broomstick. Harry was in denims and a sweater and his hair was adorably windblown and Draco thought he looked delightful, especially when he took the tiny broomstick, stuck it between his legs, and showed Carina how to mount.<p>

Draco couldn't help laughing out loud at this last one. All four looked around at him and soon Carina was in his lap, giggling as though a very funny joke had just been told.

"Papa!"

"Hi, love," he said with a smile. "Having fun?"

"Yes! Harry showed me how to sit on the broom!"

"I see that." He looked up at Harry, who was walking over, the toy broomstick in hand. Draco nodded to him casually. "Looks like you've got this under control, eh?"

He could tell Harry was trying not to smile but he failed horribly, eventually letting himself laugh and rolling his eyes. He handed the broom to Carina.

"Go ask Ron to help you out," he said. Carina happily took the broom and went running back to Weasley and Hermione, the ribbon holding her hair back flying out behind her. Draco smiled to himself, wondering not for the first time how he got so lucky with that kid.

Harry plopped down beside him in the grass and kissed his cheek. Draco raised a brow.

"Good mood?"

Harry scoffed but the smile stayed on his face.

"If you were looking for vomit-inducing affection I'm afraid you should have propositioned a Hufflepuff inst—"

"Shut the hell up," Harry laughed, and he leaned over and kissed Draco directly on the mouth. When he pulled away Draco found himself startlingly close to Harry's very green eyes and, quite embarrassingly, lost all train of thought for a moment. Harry stayed where he was, having seemed to notice that he'd captured Draco's full attention.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly. Draco didn't speak, only continued to stare, seeing a million different things and having no idea what any of them meant.

"Have you ever realized," he said, still staring, not sure where the words were coming from, "that your eyes are nearly the exact color of the Killing Curse?"

This close up he could clearly see Harry's eyes go wide and he started to back away. Draco automatically reached out and grabbed his hand.

"No," he said quickly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"It's okay," Harry whispered. He didn't sound angry. He was still staring at Draco, his brows knitted in confusion. "No one's ever said that to me before."

"I'm sorry," he said again, "I shouldn't have—"

"Draco." Draco snapped his mouth shut and looked at Harry. "It's okay." But something _wasn't _okay.

"That bothered you." He felt Harry tense up ever so slightly before he looked at the ground. The hand still under Draco's slipped away and began playing with grass. Draco watched him intently.

Harry chewed on his lip for a while before speaking. "Do you think he's … still inside of me? Even though he's gone?"

Draco's heart immediately began beating more quickly.

"What..?"

Harry ripped a clump of grass out of the ground and let the blades fall slowly through his fingers.

"Voldemort. Sometimes I think he's still there." He sighed and dropped the remainder of grass back onto the ground. "I know you don't know anything about it, and it's hard to explain, but … well, I shouldn't still be able to speak Parseltongue, should I? If he's not still inside of me?"

"Harry, what do you mean 'inside of you'?" he asked, more sharply than he'd meant. It sounded disgusting. What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean, anyway?

"I can't explain the whole thing," Harry bit out. Draco could feel Harry's temper rising. He hadn't realized he was so attuned before—but that was probably because it'd been his goal in life to make Harry squirm. It had been his job to know if he was getting to the hot-headed Gryffindor. Now, though, it felt dangerous.

"Okay," Draco said slowly. "Well, what do you mean you shouldn't still be able to speak Parseltongue? You're a Parselmouth. You spoke to that snake second year. Why would it go awa—?"

"It was because of Voldemort!" Yes, Harry was definitely getting frustrated. Not at Draco, but in general. Still, though, with their past, he wasn't so sure things couldn't turn violent. And Carina was only half a pitch away. "_He_ was a Parselmouth and there was a Horcrux inside of me so _I_could speak to snakes. But it's gone! I shouldn't be able to anymore!" He pounded the ground with his fist and Draco flinched. "Maybe Dumbledore was wrong," he whispered. "Maybe it wasn't just him."

Draco carefully placed a hand on Harry's back and, taking it as a good sign that nothing happened, scooted closer.

"Harry." Draco took a breath. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but I promise the Dark Lord is gone. I saw it happen four months ago." And it was something he would never forget. That hadn't been stupid little Gryffindor Potter—that had been Harry Potter, the boy who lived. He'd seemed like some kind of superhuman, calling the Dark Lord by his _name_like it wasn't a big deal.

There was also the matter of the Elder wand, but Draco didn't think bringing that up would do any good.

"I can still speak Parseltongue, Draco," he whispered.

Draco was astounded. This thing with Parseltongue had clearly been bothering Harry. A lot. He didn't know what to say, probably because he didn't know the situation, but he had to say _something_.

"It's just a language, Harry." He rubbed Harry's back soothingly and moved closer so he could kiss his cheek. "You don't just forget a language."

"It's a _hideous _language."

_Actually…_Draco thought, remembering how intrigued he'd been all those years ago. And suddenly he felt like he was twelve again. Would it be rude to ask him to do it..?

"I think it's beautiful," he tried. Harry looked over at him, clearly unhappy with that statement, though there was a hint of curiosity. Draco decided to play on it. "It doesn't have to be a bad thing. I know it's _associated _with something bad, but… I don't know. I think it's a beautiful language." He paused, gathering the nerve to ask. "Can you..?"

Harry stared at him in shock.

"You can't be serious." Draco shrugged. Harry's mouth fell open. "You want me to speak Parseltongue? Why? Everyone hates it!"

"Well, pardon _me _for being the first Slytherin you've ever spoken to civilly," he said, smirking in an attempt to lighten the mood. Harry watched him carefully before looking back at the ground and concentrating seemingly on nothing. Draco was about to ask when Harry started hissing.

He had no idea what in Merlin's name was being said, but it may as well have been particularly arousing English for the way blood began filling his cock.

"Stop!" he nearly shouted, instinctively reaching out to grasp Harry's arm. Harry stopped immediately and looked at Draco, worried.

"I _told _you," he said angrily, but Draco shook his head. "What?" Draco's heavy breathing must have given him away, because Harry's eyes traveled down to Draco's cock and went wide. A smile lit up his face instantaneously. Draco wished he could be proud of himself for helping Harry so hugely but he was too busy trying to cool himself down.

"You really do like that, huh?" he breathed, fascinated. Draco just managed to stop the hand that had moved toward his erection before it reached its destination.

"Not now." Harry bit his lip and Draco had to hold back a groan.

"Let's go inside."

"We can't just go inside!"

Harry moved so they were facing each other and put his cheek right beside Draco's.

"But I really want you right now," he whispered. Draco clenched his teeth.

"Not. _Now_," he said sharply.

Harry's next response was unintelligible and hissed into his ear. Draco moaned softly before he could stop himself. He supposed this was pay-back for earlier.

In a moment of incredible self-restraint he pulled away and sat far enough from Harry that he couldn't even smell him. He needed to calm down before Carina, Hermione, and Weasley came back over. He wasn't wearing his school robes—he couldn't hide anything. And whether or not_ Harry_ had no shame, _he_did.

He heard Harry laughing and turned to scowl at him. This made him laugh harder.

"This isn't over," Harry said. Draco found himself thanking Merlin for making Harry so fucking sexy.

"I'm terrified, Potter." This was a good thing to say, Draco decided, when a predatory gleam lit up Harry's eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

_That last one was rather short, so here's a quicker-than-usual update. :)_

Chapter Eleven

Harry was busy rolling around on the floor of Draco and Carina's bedroom, clutching his stomach as he laughed so hard that tears streamed down his cheeks. Ron and Carina watched in amusement while Draco determinedly ignored the spectacle. He was attempting to syphon the bright red dye out of his hair which had burst out of a small piece of Weasley candy Harry had given him.

"Ah, yes," Ron sighed, pulling Carina into his lap. "Halloween: the greatest time of the year."

"I think that one was a trick, Papa," Carina giggled. Ron gave her a high five.

"I don't see the humor." Draco pulled his wand away from his once-again blond head and glared at his boyfriend.

"That's because you couldn't see your face," Ron said. Harry, who had nearly calmed himself down, began laughing again. Draco frowned at Ron, who merely shrugged his shoulders. "And anyway, I think you should have left it. It would have been fun for tonight."

"Tonight?" Draco said vaguely, opening his dresser to peer at himself in the mirror. He ran a hand through his hair, rearranging it. "What's tonight?"

"The Halloween party!" Ron looked deeply affronted by Draco's ignorance. "It's outside since it's still nice out. Everyone's going."

"By 'everyone' I assume you mean everyone I would be embarrassed to be seen with."

Harry had finally managed to stop laughing and came up behind Draco, placing both hands on his hips. Draco tried to hide the shiver that moved through his whole body at the touch but Harry must have felt it because he laughed softly, so only Draco could hear. Draco bit the inside of his lip.

"Who _would _you wanna be seen with?" Harry asked sarcastically. Draco rolled his eyes and huffed.

"Not you."

Harry laughed again and kissed Draco's cheek.

"Get a room," Ron called, holding a hand up to the side of his mouth. Carina giggled in his lap, though Draco strongly suspected she had no idea what that meant.

"You're welcome to leave," Harry said and Draco felt his face heat up. Ron snorted.

"Actually…" He stood up, hoisting Carina onto his hip with his hand supporting her bum. "Hermione wanted my help finishing up Draco's costume for tonight."

"Excuse me?" Draco spluttered. Again, Harry laughed, though this time his breath touched Draco's neck. Harry had moved closer, his front nearly touching Draco's back. Draco swallowed.

"How do you not know anything?" Ron sighed.

"Well I would if someone _told _me!"

"Hermione's making your costume for the party tonight. She didn't tell you?"

"No!"

Ron chuckled. "Must have been a reason." He looked much too devious. Draco was suddenly nervous. What was she going to try and make him wear? "Well, I'll catch you two later. Remember to use protection, kids."

Before Draco could make a comment Ron had shut the door.

"I hope he gets eaten by the other Slytherins," Draco mumbled. Harry pulled him by the hips until they were flush against each other and Draco could feel the beginning of Harry's hardness on his arse. His body tingled.

"He has Carina," Harry whispered.

"They won't touch her. Just him."

"But then they'd interrupt us." He breathed this into Draco's ear. Draco was trying with every ounce of willpower he possessed to stay in control of both his body and his thoughts but this was proving difficult.

"From what?" he managed shakily.

Instead of an answer he could understand Harry hissed something against his neck, eliciting a moan he couldn't have held back even if he'd been ready.

"Isn't that cheating?" he whimpered. Harry kissed his neck and chuckled.

"It's cheating to look the way you do." Very gently, almost as though he wasn't aware he was doing it, but Draco knew he was, Harry rolled his hips, pressing his cock against Draco's arse. Draco's breath hitched. "It's not fair that I can't think about anything except touching you all day long. Or that watching you walk makes me hard."

"Harry," he said quietly, moving his hands to cover Harry's. "Stop it. You don't mean that…"

"Don't I?" Harry kissed his neck again and nipped lightly. Draco groaned. "Sometimes I can't believe I didn't notice before. Everything about you drives me crazy, Draco."

"Like what?"

Harry laughed and spun Draco around so they faced each other. Draco remembered when they first came to school and Harry was still a bit shorter than him. Not anymore. They were about the same height—Harry had maybe an inch on him. But contrary to what he would have thought, Draco rather liked that. He kind of liked Harry being in charge. He needed someone to be stronger than him right now.

"Your skin." Harry ran a thumb across Draco's cheekbone. "And your jaw." He kissed Draco's jawline, lingered there for a moment. Draco felt butterflies whirring around madly in his stomach. "God, and your collarbones." Instead of kissing these as well Harry pushed him backwards until Draco's legs touched the bed. He gently laid him down and crawled on top of him. Draco stared up at him, his breathing heavy, heart pounding, hands beginning to sweat. "I can't concentrate on school anymore. All I do is think about you. And when you're in class with me…" Draco watched, fascinated, as Harry began to lose control before his eyes. He leaned down and covered Draco's lips with his own. The heat of the kiss was almost more than Draco could take. Harry was biting his lower lip and breathing into his mouth and Draco thought he might explode at any second. He turned his face away, but Harry only latched onto his neck instead. He groaned and involuntarily arched up.

"Wait… Harry…"

"I can't," Harry whined, bringing his hips down to meet Draco's, rubbing their erections together through layers of clothing. Draco squeezed his eyes shut. "Please, just… I need…" He stopped talking and released a low moan, continuing the motion of his hips, speeding up incrementally. Harry's loss of control was both endearing and extremely hot. And the fact that_ he'd d_one this to him… Draco bit his lip and pushed up, meeting Harry's thrust. Harry's head fell into the crook of Draco's neck and he kissed him there.

Draco ran his hands through Harry's hair, holding his head to his neck.

"What do you need?" he breathed. Harry groaned.

"Please… Let me touch you…"

Right now, Draco couldn't imagine wanting anything more. Still, though, he'd never done anything with a man before, other than his messy fumblings with Harry… But Harry, who Draco was fairly certainly had never done this either, seemed not to care as he ran a hand down Draco's hip and slipped between their moving bodies. As he undid the button and fly on Draco's trousers with one hand he sat up, his lips red and swollen from kissing, and watched intently as he slipped Draco's trousers down to mid-thigh.

Draco swallowed thickly, his cock throbbing in anticipation even as he shook with nerves.

Harry brought a hand to his cloth-covered erection and palmed him through the material. Draco's eyes slipped closed and he arched into the touch, moaning weakly.

"You like that?" Harry whispered. And when had Harry Potter adopted such an aggressive demeanor? Not that Draco was complaining. In all honesty, he couldn't imagine anything more arousing. He merely whimpered and nodded, arching up desperately. Harry rubbed him harder in response.

His fingers, already burning Draco through a layer of clothing, were playing with the waistband of his pants when there was a knock on the door. Draco gasped and his eyes flew open at the same time that Harry swore under his breath. They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Get off. _Hurry."_

Harry looked at him for another moment, almost as though he was contemplating whether or not he should simply keep going, but another, more insistent knock on the door had him hopping off the bed, swearing again as he did so. He stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind himself.

Draco took a deep breath and tucked himself away, though it was difficult to do so, and grabbed his school robes to throw on in an attempt to hide his situation.

"Who is it?" he called as he rearranged his hair again in his dresser.

"Hermione," came Hermione's voice from the other side. "I have Carina. And something for you."

Draco had to resist the urge to throw the door open and hex her into next week. He took a deep breath and walked casually over to the door, noting the sound of the shower starting in the bathroom. He smirked in spite of himself.

When he opened the door Carina came bounding inside, looking, he assumed, for Harry.

Indeed…

"Where's Harry?" she asked, looking around the room in confusion.

"In the shower."

Hermione raised a brow at him. He remained impassive. When she smiled to herself before walking further into the room, though, he was sure she knew what she'd interrupted.

"Sorry for barging in like this," she said, sitting down on Carina's bed with a small smirk, "but I need you to try your costume on."

Draco huffed in annoyance. _Seriously?_

"I thought Ron was helping you with something. This couldn't have waited?"

He knew he should have been a bit less obvious, but what was the point? She knew. And she knew _he _knew that she knew. He crossed his arms and glared at her.

"I'm afraid not. We need to make sure it fits. And I need to do a bit of measuring as well."

Draco groaned but plopped down on his bed and crossed a leg over the other.

"Well, let's get to it, then."

Hermione smiled brightly and hopped up, fishing something out of the bag on her shoulder. Draco's brows creased in confusion when she held a white pleather body suit out to him. He eyed it carefully before looking up at her.

"What is that supposed to be?"

She shook it in his face but he didn't take it.

"It's your costume!"

"And what in _Merlin's _name am I supposed to be?"

"An angel!"

Draco nearly laughed but choked on his own spit instead. He looked up at her with wide eyes. Carina giggled.

"Is this supposed to be some kind of bad joke? Because it's not funny."

"No, it's not a joke," Hermione said, beginning to smile. "You'll be a lovely angel with your hair and skin tone."

"Oh, dear God, what have I done?" he mumbled, placing his face in his hands.

"Harry will love it," Hermione said in a sing-song voice. Draco glared at her. The most heated snogging session of his life had been interrupted for this?

"About as much as he loved my red hair! He'll be too busy rolling around on the floor laughing to do much else!"

"I think you're wrong," she said, and Draco wasn't sure how he felt about the mischievous smirk on her face. "I think he'll _loveit."_

Was he missing something? He watched her for a moment longer before snatching the horrendous costume from her hands and beginning to stalk over to the bathroom.

"No, wait!"

"What?"

"Don't change in there! Harry will see you!"

"I thought you just said he'd love it—"

"Yes, but he can't see it until tonight!"

Hermione pushed him behind the doors of his dresser and proceeded to sit down next to Carina on her bed. They both watched him expectantly. He glared at them both before acquiescing and slipping into the damn costume. He thanked Merlin his erection had flagged.

He had to admit, it fit him well. It accentuated all the right things on his body, too. Indeed, he couldn't stop staring at himself in the mirror, turning every which way to admire himself from different angles.

"I'm glad you like it." Hermione's voice snapped him out of his perusal of his own body. He looked over at her, smiling slightly.

"Touché, Granger. I must admit, you were entirely right. I look stunning."

Hermione snorted.

"Good. Now come here so I can measure your shoulders for wings."

* * *

><p>Harry sat next to Ron and Carina on a couch in the Gryffindor common room. There were a bunch of other students admiring each other's costumes and preparing for the party. Seamus, he noted, was already acting a bit tipsy. He wondered whether someone would manage to sneak drinks into the party. The teachers weren't supposed to be there, so he imagined that would only make sense.<p>

He tried to imagine Draco drunk and chuckled.

Draco was currently in Harry's room with Hermione, changing into his costume. Harry was much more excited than he cared to admit to see what his boyfriend was wearing. Hermione had assured him with a simple smirk that it would be something he'd enjoy. He'd tried to get it out of Ron but, to his surprise, his best friend refused to say anything.

Harry was a vampire. It wasn't especially original, but he'd had fun making the costume anyway. Hermione had made him a pair of amazing teeth and done his makeup. He wore a Muggle suit and a cape that resembled something Snape would have worn in the worst way. Ron had taken to calling him Professor Snape, in fact.

Ron was dressed as a Chudley Cannons Quidditch player. He'd originally said he wanted to dress as Voldemort, much to Hermione's dismay, but she'd talked him out of it, telling him it was too soon. Ron had rolled his eyes and mumbled something about the lack of a sense of humor at this school.

Carina, on the other hand, was dressed as a princess. Her dress, which Hermione had made, was extraordinary. She wore a tiara and extravagant makeup. Her blond hair was up in an elegant bun and Harry thought she was the very essence of the name Malfoy. Now he only wanted to see what Draco was wearing.

Just as the last few people were exiting the common room Harry heard footsteps on the stairs. He, Ron, and Carina all shifted in their seats to get a better look.

Hermione came down first, wearing a pair of Muggle jeans, a giant shirt, and, to Harry's absolute astonishment, a pair of round glasses. Her hair was up in a very messy bun and on her forehead was a red lightning bolt-shaped scar drawn on in ink. Ron burst into laughter.

"What..?" Harry muttered, staring at her incredulously. She laughed and walked over, extending a hand. Harry shook it slowly.

"Harry Potter," she said with a smirk.

"Sweet Merlin," Ron wheezed, clutching at his stomach. "Hermione… You're a genius… A genius..."

"Yes, I know," she said, batting her eyelashes. "I'm also the savior of the Wizarding world, thank you very much. The boy who lived? The Chosen One?"

Carina was giggling madly next to him now as well.

"Where's Draco?" Harry said with a laugh.

"He's coming." She leaned over and whispered, "And he looks _hot_."

Harry's cheeks burned and he looked past his doppelganger to the stairs, eagerly awaiting his boyfriend's appearance.

A few seconds later there was the sound of steps on the stairs again. As soon as he caught sight of Draco Harry's jaw dropped. He watched silently as Hermione went over to him and wrapped her arms around his middle. He smirked down at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

His normally pale skin tone looked like porcelain in contrast to the white body suit he wore. His hair fell loosely around his face and it looked like Hermione had done his makeup. Harry couldn't tell what she'd done, though. All he knew was that Draco's gray eyes popped more than usual, his cheekbones were even more defined, his lips shimmered, and every inch of exposed skin seemed to glitter. Complete with the wings protruding from his back he looked ethereal.

Without thinking much about it Harry got off the couch and walked over. Hermione stepped away, smiling to herself. Harry placed his hands on Draco's hips and pulled him close, raking his eyes over his boyfriend's body. He felt like he couldn't breathe.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, finally meeting Draco's eyes. He was smiling shyly.

"You're pretty hot yourself."

"Draco," he breathed, shaking his head. He couldn't find the words. This was like something out of a dream. Was it even possible for people to look like that? A ridiculous thought flitted through his mind, that perhaps Draco had Veela blood, or maybe he wasn't entirely human. How could he be?

He leaned in and brushed his lips against Draco's lightly, afraid that he might taint him if he touched him too much. But he couldn't help it. All he wanted to do was drag him back up to his room and explore him for hours. Touch him, kiss him, make him moan and writhe and sweat and glisten.

"If you're quite finished ogling Draco we need to get to the party," Ron said, laughter in his voice. Harry took one last look at Draco before turning around.

"Right. Let's go."

He saw Hermione wink at Draco, who rolled his eyes but smirked.

* * *

><p>Indeed, there were drinks at the party. Plenty of them. Ron was gone within the first hour, Harry within the first two, and even Hermione got a little buzzed. She'd opted to take care of Carina, which had left Draco to down a few drinks himself. He was a bit tipsy by the time it neared midnight.<br>Hermione had taken Carina up to bed and come back down. Harry was grateful. He wanted to get Draco drunk.

He sidled up to him as a heavy beat began to play. The moonlight on the water reflected in Draco's hair and Harry nuzzled it from behind. He planted his hands on Draco's hips and pulled his pleather-clad arse against his already-hard cock, sighing happily at the sensation. Draco swayed his hips to the music, grinding back against Harry.

He'd lost his wings at some point during the night, so there was nothing to keep Harry from pressing his body fully against Draco and sucking on his sweaty neck.

"I want you," he breathed, "so badly."

Both were oblivious to the hundreds of students around them. They were the only people in the world at that moment, swaying to the beat, enjoying the feel of their bodies pressed together. Harry knew he was gripping Draco's hips too tightly, but he couldn't help it. He needed him close. Closer than physics would allow. He ran a hand up Draco's stomach and back down, moving to the inside of Draco's thigh and stilling there. Draco moaned rather loudly.

Harry could hear people talking, but their words didn't register. In fact, they only made him more frustrated that he couldn't have Draco alone on his bed right now.

"They're fucking on the dance floor," one girl said.

"Since when is Potter into that?"

"Is Malfoy a Veela?"

Harry chuckled at this last one, squeezing Draco's thigh.

"Come with me," he whispered. Draco's hips stilled.

"Where?"

Harry pulled away and grabbed his hand, led him back to the castle and up to the seventh floor. He didn't, however, take Draco to Gryffindor Tower. He took him to the stretch of wall where the Room of Requirement lay waiting to service students. Harry walked past three times and fairly dragged Draco inside when the door appeared.

If the Room had still been working properly there would have been wine and silk sheets and candles. But it wasn't working properly, so there was no wine and the sheets weren't silk. The bed was still gorgeous, though, and looked extremely comfortable. There was a fireplace and a few bottles of scented oil on a table.

"Harry…" Draco whispered. Harry came up behind him and kissed his shoulder.

"Lay on the bed, baby." He could feel Draco shiver at the pet name and smiled to himself. He'd had a feeling Draco would enjoy that kind of thing—being doted on and obsessed over and worshipped. Draco complied, leaning back against the mountain of pillows and staring at Harry, his skin glimmering in the light of the fireplace.

Harry grabbed a bottle of lavender oil and climbed on the bed too, on top of Draco, and kissed him. When he pulled away Draco was breathing heavily. Harry set the bottle down on the bed and continued kissing the blond, down his neck, across his collarbone, onto the material of his costume. He kissed down his stomach and stopped at his hips, paying them special attention, before moving on, skirting around the edges of Draco's obvious erection, down his thighs.

"You're perfect," he said, climbing back up Draco's body and kissing his collarbone again. "Take the costume off."

Were he not influenced by alcohol, it probably would have taken more persuading, but he was nearing inebriation, and so he flipped onto his stomach and gave Harry access to the zipper. Harry's hands shook as he slowly dragged it down, over his back, until it stopped just above the swell of Draco's arse.

He leaned over and kissed his back before helping Draco to pull his arms out, and then his legs. Harry threw the costume over the side of the bed and looked at the boy beneath him, lost for words. Draco was breathtaking. There was definitely some kind of glitter covering every inch of his skin because he was glistening in the soft light of the room. Something about being fully clothed with a completely naked, shimmering, hard and wanting Draco beneath him drove Harry wild. He flipped Draco back over and crawled on top of him, attaching his lips to Draco's stomach and sucking. Draco's hands quickly found his hair and tugged.

Harry thought he could have done this forever. Explored Draco's perfect body. Tasted him. But he was becoming achingly hard himself and self-control was something he simply didn't have, especially with the alcohol in his system.

He unbuttoned and unzipped himself as he kissed along Draco's jawline, palming himself through his pants before shoving both his trousers and boxers down to mid-thigh. Draco stared longingly at Harry's cock and Harry moaned at the sight.

"What do you want?" he breathed. Draco looked up at him, his gray eyes wide and hopeful.

"Touch me."

Harry didn't need telling twice. He wrapped his hand, for the first time, around Draco's cock and groaned at the sensation. Draco's head fell back against the pillows and he whimpered, arching himself off the bed and into Harry's hand.

Harry, keeping his hand on Draco's cock, leaned forward and buried his face in Draco's neck. He hissed, excited to finally have the opportunity to send Draco over the edge using this against him. Draco practically wailed, his hips bucking uncontrollably. Harry used his other hand to press firmly on Draco's hip, forcing him to stop.

"Harry, please," he whispered. Harry smirked.

"Please what?"

Draco whimpered. Harry held fast, squeezing his cock more tightly.

"_Please._"

"Tell me what you want, Draco."

Draco tried once more to arch up but Harry wouldn't let him. He nipped at Draco's jaw.

"Tell me what you want, Draco. Talk to me."

"Make me come," he said finally, and Harry had to bite back a groan. "Make me scream, Harry, _please_, I need you!"

Harry swore under his breath as he reached for the bottle of oil resting next to his knee on the bed. He poured a generous amount onto his hand and then ran it over Draco's body. It was fascinating to watch, the way it dripped down his sides and pooled in his belly button. Harry spread it over his own cock and Draco's, warming it up, before moving between Draco's parted legs and bringing their erections together.

Draco arched up off the bed again and a high-pitched moan left his mouth. Harry gasped.

"Fuck." He wrapped a hand around both of them and squeezed. Draco keened. "Fuck, Draco."

He didn't allow himself a moment to regain control. He couldn't. His hand was already moving of its own accord over both their cocks, his hips moving in time with Draco's so they slid against each other, creating unbelievable friction. Draco was moaning constantly now, sounding almost like he was crying. But he was saying Harry's name on every other breath.

"Tell me," Draco gasped, clutching suddenly at Harry's biceps. "Tell me to come."

Harry growled low in his throat, burying his face in Draco's sweaty neck. He bit down hard.

"Come for me, Draco." Draco moaned again, more loudly, but he didn't come. "_Come_, Draco." Harry sped his hand up, afraid he might lose himself before Draco. But then he hissed the order in Parseltongue, harshly, slamming his hips against Draco's at the same time, and Draco's body convulsed beneath him. Harry came soon after, rocking against Draco's body as he rode out wave after wave of pleasure.

When the high of the orgasm began to fade Harry dropped down next to him on the bed and pulled him close. Draco buried his face in Harry's neck. Harry maneuvered the covers out from under them and pulled them up over their cooling bodies.

"Stay with me tonight," he whispered. Draco merely nodded and shuffled closer, if that was possible. He moved a leg between Harry's.

In his head, Harry thought the words, _I love you_, but he didn't let himself say them. He wasn't drunk enough. But the fact that they even crossed his mind made him wonder.

He could smell Draco's hair and the cologne he'd worn for tonight. His senses were filled with Draco and he felt completely safe, completely at home. He carefully slipped out of his own clothes and snuggled up to Draco, loving the feel of their naked bodies together. Draco giggled and kissed Harry's neck.

"G'night, baby," Harry whispered. Draco didn't say anything, only tightened his embrace around Harry. Harry smiled to himself, closed his eyes, and snuggled closer to the warm boy next to him.


	12. Chapter 12

_Thank you again to everyone for all your reviews. You're all amazing._

_Oh, also, the dance in the tent in the DH movie isn't book canon, I know, but I loved that part and I referred to it in this chapter. Deal with it. ;)_

Chapter Twelve

Harry hadn't anticipated the consequences of his actions on Halloween night. Of course, he and Draco's relationship was spectacular. And now they could hold hands in public and do things that two people who are dating should be able to do—but it was still hard to hear some of the things that were being said.

Before Halloween, it had all been speculation, except for Harry's friends and the people who'd been at Carina's birthday party. Now, though, everyone had seen them on the dance floor. They'd seen the way Harry had touched Draco, the way Draco had reveled in the attention. Their relationship status wasn't just rumors or gossip anymore—it was fact. And although most other students simply didn't say much about it, there were the few who liked to speak loudly about how disappointed they were in Harry. About how Draco Malfoy didn't deserve him; how he was nothing but a Death Eater and deserved to rot in Azkaban.

A few times Ron had had to hold Harry back from attacking them.

It worried Harry. Not just that Draco was potentially unsafe, or that the words might get him down, but the way it all affected _him_. He really cared about Draco. _A lot_. More than he would have anticipated. More than he cared to admit, really. He hadn't brought it up to Ron or Hermione… It felt too personal. And, though he was ashamed to say it, he felt a little embarrassed. This wasn't just a boy he was falling in love with, but Draco Malfoy. Regardless of everything he'd been through and the way he'd changed, he still _had_ put Harry through hell. And he _did _have a Dark Mark on his arm, whether or not he despised the very sight of it.

How could he have feelings for someone like that?

Well, it didn't really matter, did it? The simple truth of the matter was that some time in the past few months he'd fallen for this boy. Hard. And where he would have loved to see people tormenting Draco only a year ago, now it made his blood boil.

And perhaps it wasn't only because of the injustice of it.

In the back of his mind, a niggling part of Harry's brain was scared. Scared that maybe these people could be right. What if Draco was using him? What he could be using Harry for, Harry didn't know. But still…

Harry decided, against his better judgment (not that his judgment was ever that great), to bring it up. After all, how could they have a relationship if they weren't honest with each other?

Harry asked Hermione and Ron to watch Carina one Saturday afternoon. Draco had looked a little suspicious when Harry had asked him to hang out. That in itself wasn't unusual, but Harry wasn't particularly good at hiding his emotions, so something must have been showing on his face. Draco didn't say anything, though—he was apparently more tactful than that.

Harry led him to an empty classroom and closed the door behind himself. His heart was pounding and his hands were beginning to sweat. He hadn't the slightest clue as to how this would play out. How Draco would react when Harry laid his insecurities on the table.

But the worst part was … what if it was true? What if Draco _was _using him? To regain his own popularity, for his fame, for any number of things, really. What if Harry put it out there and he saw guilt in Draco's eyes? Harry wasn't sure he could handle that. He'd certainly dug himself into a deep hole with this one.

Once inside the classroom Draco sat down in a chair and Harry pulled another one over, gingerly sitting down across from him.

"Draco," he said quietly, "everyone's been saying stuff about us…"

"I know, it's preposterous." Harry bit his lip nervously and looked down at his hands. He could feel Draco staring at him. "Harry… You're not _actually_ about to ask me if I'm using you." Harry fidgeted nervously with his hands. "I know you're smarter than that. Of all the people in this school, you should know better than anyone that rumors are _always_bullsh—"

"What do you mean, me of all people?" Harry spat, feeling his stubborn temper rising in spite of himself. Draco's gray eyes suddenly adopted that cold, calculating look they'd been devoid of for weeks now. Harry's heart plummeted.

"Exactly what it sounds like! You complained about stupid rumors for six years and _now _you're going to start listening? And to one as fucked up as this?"

"Those rumors didn't make any sense! I _saw _Voldemort come back! I—"

"And this _does_ make sense?" Draco suddenly stood up from his chair and Harry had to stop himself from shrinking away. "Why, Harry? Because I'm a Malfoy, and I couldn't _possibly_ do something without having evil plans behind it? Because you're Harry Potter, and Draco Malfoy couldn't _possibly _want you for anything more than your fame?" Harry felt his stomach turning raucously, angry tears building up behind his glasses. But he couldn't speak. Draco looked on the verge of exploding. "Newsflash, Potter! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHO YOU ARE! You think you're something special 'cause of that fucking scar on your head!" Draco moved forwards and Harry stood up from his chair, backing away from the furious Slytherin. He simply pushed Harry against the wall, grabbing his collar roughly. "Get this through your thick skull, Potter," he whispered dangerously. "You're a spoiled, conceited hero who's gotten by on nothing but luck. Get over yourself."

And without a second glance he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Harry, his whole body trembling, sank along the wall to the ground.

That had gotten very bad very quickly. They hadn't entered the room more than three minutes ago and Draco was already gone. Harry swore and let his head fall back against the brick wall, shutting his eyes to stop any tears from coming out.

He shouldn't have said anything. He'd _known _it was a bad idea. But it had been honestly bothering him.

Draco had a point, though, ashamed as Harry was to admit it. For six years people had spread rumors about Harry around school. Fifth year had been among the worst. He should have known rumors at Hogwarts were always stupid. Only now could he appreciate how that must have felt to Draco. Perhaps Harry wasn't as over the War as he'd thought. He liked Draco a lot, that wasn't a question. But there was still distrust there. There was still suspicion. There was still a Dark Mark on his arm.

Despite what he'd told Draco when he'd formally asked him out, he was still Draco _Malfoy_. The past didn't just disappear. They were on their way to making it right, but they weren't there yet. Not nearly. And for the first time Harry was seeing that. They couldn't just jump into the relationship six months after the War ended and expect to be a perfect, happy couple. Harry couldn't just suddenly discover his sexuality and attraction to Draco and expect it to work flawlessly.

And to be honest, he was embarrassed of himself for ever having entertained that notion. When had his life ever been normal? Sure, he would have liked that. But even with Voldemort gone it was too much to expect normalcy. Especially when they were dealing with Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

Besides, really, who had a _normal _life?

Harry sighed deeply and stood up, preparing himself to find Draco and talk to him.

Unfortunately, his mission was impeded by Ginny, who stopped him on his way to Gryffindor Tower, where Hermione and Ron had been watching Carina.

"Harry," she said breathlessly, grabbing his arm from behind and spinning him around.

"Oh, hey, Gin," he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I just need a minute." He nodded, looking quickly toward the stairs anxiously. She seemed to notice because she hurried on. "Mum wanted to know if you're coming home with us for Christmas." Ginny smiled. "I mean, she expects you to, of course, and she'll probably skin you alive if you don't, but I thought I'd ask anyway."

Harry laughed and ran a hand through his hair.

"'Course I'll be there. Thanks, Gin. And tell your mum I say hi."

Ginny nodded and turned back around, presumably to send her mother an owl. A thought struck Harry, though, and he called out to her again, running to catch up.

His face heated before he even began talking.

"Er—Ginny. Do you think…" He bit his lip, trying to think quickly about this. He looked into her eyes. "Do you think Draco and Carina could come?"

She looked shocked. At a loss for words. But, to Harry's surprise, she finally opened her mouth and said quietly, "Yeah, I don't see why not. I'll, um … I'll tell mum they're coming along."

She turned again but Harry grabbed her arm and pulled her into a tight hug. She froze for a moment before returning the gesture.

"Thank you, Ginny," he whispered. "I love you."

He pulled away and found Ginny smiling lightly. "Love you, too, Harry." She kissed him on the cheek before leaving.

* * *

><p>Harry was surprised to find Carina still sitting with Ron and Hermione in the common room.<p>

"Hey," he said, eyebrows drawn together, as he approached them. Carina's face lit up and she ran over and hugged his leg. Harry smiled and placed a hand on top of her head.

"Where's Draco?" Ron asked, peering behind Harry to the portrait hole."

"Er—I'm not sure, to be honest."

Hermione and Ron shared a look.

"Did something happen?" she asked quietly.

Harry looked down at Carina, who was now placing her own foot next to Harry's and comparing the size, and sighed.

"'Rina, go with Ron for a little bit, okay?"

"Where are you going?" she asked, her eyes wide and sad. Harry laughed.

"I'll be right back, I promise."

When Carina finally ran over to Ron Hermione got up and followed Harry out of the portrait hole. They were silent for a little while, Harry contemplating what he would say and Hermione tactfully waiting for him to speak first.

"I asked you guys to watch Carina earlier because I wanted to talk to Draco about something that's been bothering me," he said finally.

"What was bothering you?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair, a tad embarrassed to admit this to Hermione.

"You know how people have been saying stuff about us recently? Like, how Draco's not good enough for me and how he's just using me."

She seemed to know immediately where this was going. She nodded once.

Harry took a breath.

"Well, I started worrying a little. I mean, I … I really like Draco. A lot. But he's still Draco Malfoy. You know?" He looked over to Hermione. Again, she nodded.

"So am I correct in assuming you brought that up to him?"

Harry looked at her and bit his lip. She seemed to take this as a confirmation.

"Well, what did you say exactly? They're legitimate fears, I think. But then again, you're right, he's Draco Malfoy, and I won't pretend to know him very well, even if we've gotten closer in these past couple weeks."

"I didn't say much. He knew. I brought him into a classroom and, well, I said what I said to you. That there were rumors going around. And he just got mad right off the bat. He said that… He said that I, of all people, should know that rumors are ridiculous." He pinched the bridge of his nose. The more he thought about it the more fucked up the situation became in his head. He should have gone to Hermione first. "He got really mad when I said the rumors from before had been stupid. Because I'd seen Voldemort come back."

Hermione's eyes went wide.

"Do you realize you implied that _these _rumors are reasonable, then?"

"Yes, yes, I _know_," Harry whined, stopping to lean against a wall. Hermione watched him sadly. "He got so angry, 'Mione. He pushed me up against a bloody wall and yelled in my face. Told me I was a spoiled hero or something. To get over myself."

"Oh, dear." She came over and took his hand but didn't say anything. She seemed to be thinking.

"Do you think he'll forgive me?" Harry whispered. She finally looked up at him, her eyes understanding.

"Yes, Harry, I do. He really likes you, too. I think you need to find him and apologize. However, I also think you need to explain to him why you were worried in the first place. Your fears may have been hurtful to him, but, like I said before, they were legitimate. He has to understand that he was a Death Eater and that you two have only been dating for about a month. He can't expect you to suddenly trust him with every fiber of your being. Realistically, these rumors right now aren't as ridiculous as the ones from, say, fifth year. But to Draco, someone who's still recovering from feeling like a downright criminal, that hurts. You had every reason to be anxious, Harry, but you should have said it differently.

Now, let's go get the Map, find out where he is, and you can go have a talk with him."

Harry leaned forward and wrapped Hermione in a bone-crushing hug, laying his head on her shoulder.

"You are absolutely amazing, Hermione," he whispered. She hugged him back and Harry was reminded of the time they'd danced in the tent last year. Ron was his best mate, but Hermione was like a sister. Harry didn't know what he'd do without her, he really didn't.

"Come on," she said, pulling away and nodding in the direction of the stairs. "We can talk about what you'll say on the way up."


	13. Chapter 13

_Enjoy, cutie patooties. ;)_

Chapter Thirteen

Hermione was an excellent person to talk to when it came to discussions pertaining to relationships, there was no denying that. She knew exactly what to say ninety-nine per cent of the time. Harry had complete faith in her. When they'd been walking up to Gryffindor Tower and she'd been talking him through what to say to Draco he'd been trying hard to listen—it was his only real shot at mending this quickly. But he found he couldn't concentrate. He kept thinking back to the fight in the classroom, Draco's angry voice playing over and over in his head like a broken record. By the time they'd made it to the seventh-floor landing his lips were beginning to chap from having chewed on them so harshly.

They'd successfully retrieved the Map from Harry's trunk without attracting Ron or Carina's attention and made it back through the portrait hole fairly quickly. Hermione had double-checked with Harry to make sure he was okay, run through a few things to say with him again, and then sent him on his way—to Myrtle's bathroom.

It had to be some kind of cruel irony, he decided. Harry's heart had climbed into his throat and lodged itself there when he'd seen that. He'd felt Hermione's gaze on him but he'd not had the courage to look up.

He'd bade her goodbye and set off at a brisk pace, hoping to get there before he chickened out.

But as he got closer to his destination, Harry was beginning to find that he sincerely regretted not trying harder to listen to Hermione when she'd been giving him advice. He had no idea what to say. He wasn't inarticulate, of course, but he'd never been very good at talking to Draco (or to people with whom he was in a relationship, for that matter). The only things he could ever manage were witty, sarcastic comebacks to whatever Draco had thrown at him first. This, however, was not a time for sarcasm or coming out on top. This was about listening and talking and expressing difficult feelings.

His heart pounded harder as he thought about _those_—his _feelings_. For a while now he'd been trying to avoid the word "love" when it had anything to do with Draco. It didn't' make sense in his mind that love could have anything to do with their relationship. Not just because it was so new, but because of their past, because of who they were, because he'd _never before_ even _thought _about a bloke in that way. Harry wasn't homophobic—how could he be? He'd gotten off on foreplay with another man. But at least that was somewhat familiar; he was a teenager, after all. Hormones were crazy, right? Up until now he hadn't really labeled himself as "gay" or "bi" or anything like that. His dick liked stimulation. He'd promised himself he wouldn't make a big deal of this. He didn't want any more drama. But now that more intense feelings and emotions were trying to force their way into the relationship Harry didn't know what to do.

He stopped when he reached the second floor. He could see the door to Myrtle's bathroom. Harry could almost see Draco leaning over the basin right now, his blond hair falling into his face as he cried.

A shiver ran up Harry's spine as he thought about the difference between this situation and the one from sixth year; if Draco was indeed crying right now, it wouldn't be because of Voldemort.

It would be because of Harry.

He bit his lip and continued to stare at the door, contemplating the situation. The most important thing right now was that the thought of causing Draco's anguish had Harry's stomach turning. He thought of Carina, of the promise he'd made her, and he felt his throat tighten.

He had to get this right. Whether or not he was sure of his feelings—or ready to admit them—Draco and Carina both needed him. And what was he if not noble?

_Mum and dad would be proud of me_, he told himself.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and walked up to the door, pushing it open before he had any more time to think.

If he hadn't been ready for it, his head most certainly would have swum with déja vu. Draco was standing before a sink, looking into a mirror, though he wasn't leaning over the basin. He was just staring at himself. He was once again in his slacks and dress shirt, though that wasn't so surprising, as it was what he wore every day beneath his robes.

Since he was already standing upright, Harry didn't need to announce himself this time. Draco saw his reflection and Harry saw him close his eyes through the grubby reflection in the glass.

"How do you always find me?" Draco whispered. The weight of the Map was heavy in Harry's back pocket. He didn't answer the question. Draco turned eventually and looked at him. It looked vaguely like he'd been crying, but Harry couldn't be sure. He took a few tentative steps forward and when Draco didn't retaliate he closed the rest of the distance, stopping only about a foot in front of him.

Draco crossed his arms protectively across his chest. It struck Harry how feminine this was. What surprised him even more, though, was the fact that he found it rather endearing.

"I came here to apologize."

Draco merely looked down. Harry sighed.

"I'm sorry, Draco. When I said all that stuff—I wasn't thinking. I was just so scared."

Draco scoffed and looked up. "So you said before," he snapped.

"Just listen," Harry said. Draco glared at him for a moment before looking back down. Harry took this as a cue to continue. "I like you … _so _much, Draco. More than I can even convey to you." He swallowed thickly. "I'm just scared because I'm scared to lose you. It terrifies me that you might not feel the same way about me." Harry wrung his hands at his sides, wishing he could sound a little more articulate. He knew his words weren't smooth right now. But he was getting it out, at least. And it was coming straight from the heart. "It all happened so quickly. We had a … a really difficult past. It's just hard to believe sometimes that this is … you know … for real."

He looked at Draco for any sign of a reaction but he was still looking at the floor. He opened to mouth to talk again but was cut off when Draco finally looked up.

"Stop," he said. It was quiet, but it was effective in stopping Harry from speaking. "There are a lot of things about you, Harry, that I can't stand." Harry felt his stomach drop and tears pool very suddenly in his eyes. "But one thing I admire—that I've _always _secretly admired—is your straightforwardness. You say what you're thinking, even if no one wants to hear it. So stop sugar-coating this. It's disgust—"

"I'm not sugar-coating anyth—!"

Once again Draco silenced Harry with one word. His name this time.

"You may indeed be worried because this feels surreal—I am too. I mean, for fuck's sake, Harry, if someone had told me last year that I'd be … that I'd like you this much in one year's time… Christ, I'd have knocked their teeth out. I _get_ it. It's hard to believe sometimes. But don't you _dare_ pretend like what you said before in that classroom isn't true. You're scared because a part of you still doesn't trust me. Because regardless of anything going on right now, I_ was_ a Death Eater." He stopped and wiped a tear from just beneath his eye. "I'm Marked. Still. I always _will _be. And it's…" The end of his sentence trailed off, as though he couldn't think of a word horrific enough to describe his feelings about the Mark on his arm. Instead, he reached for his sleeve and pulled it up, exposing it fully. Harry had seen it before on the Astronomy Tower, and he'd caught glimpses of it when they'd been fooling around in bed, but Draco had been pretty good at hiding it. It was probably habit, Harry thought. Now, though, he could see it up close. In great detail. It didn't look like it had faded at all. It wasn't a tattoo, though, after all. It was magic. Harry raised his eyes to look at Draco, who was watching him, and then tentatively stepped forward.

On complete impulse, Harry reached forward and took Draco's left arm. Draco watched him carefully as he brought it up to his lips and, very gently, kissed it. When he brought the arm back down he found Draco staring at him incredulously.

Before he could speak, however, Harry said, "I forgive you."

It was like a trigger. Draco fell into his arms, squeezing his neck tight enough that Harry might have thought he was trying to kill him. But Harry could feel the relief washing off of Draco in waves—he hugged him back, digging his nails into Draco's back because he just couldn't seem to get him close enough.

"How can you forgive me?" he breathed into Harry's ear. He sounded anguished. "I'm just as bad as any of the others."

Harry pulled away and looked hard at Draco, grasping his upper arms tightly.

"You're _nothing_ like them. How can you even _say _that?"

"I stood there while they did it," he whispered. "I let it happen. It makes me just as bad."

"But you feel remorse!" It felt like the most important thing in the world right now for Draco to understand. To feel what Harry was saying. "Did you listen to _anything _I said to Voldemort before he died?"

Draco swallowed audibly but said nothing. Harry growled in frustration.

"One of the most important things Dumbledore ever taught me, Draco, is that no one is born a certain way. We are what we make ourselves. Did you know the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin?" Draco's eyes went wide. "Yeah. I _asked _it to put me into Gryffindor."

"Are you..?"

"I'm dead fucking serious." Harry was gripping Draco's biceps so tightly he was sure there would be bruises, but he couldn't make himself relinquish his grip. He so desperately wanted to get through to Draco. He couldn't even explain it to himself anymore. He just needed to do this. "No one's _bad_. There's no such _thing_ as a _bad _person. You grew up with people who influenced you negatively."

A sneer began to form on Draco's face.

"Watch it, Pot—"

"No, Draco," he said, cutting him off. Draco snapped his mouth shut and glared. "I don't think for a _second _you would have done any of that if you hadn't been forced to. A long time ago, when we first met, you told me that everyone in your family has been a Slytherin." A few tears were steadily making their way down Draco's cheeks. Harry hurried on before he had a chance to back down. "Why do you think Carina is so different? I didn't know you when you were her age, but I knew you at eleven, and you know what? You were a little shit. Do you remember that conversation we had in Madam Malkin's seven years ago?"

"What?" Draco looked truly confused for the first time. Harry chuckled in spite of himself.

"You never realized that was me, did you? That quiet little boy on the stool next to you? Who didn't know what Quidditch or Hogwarts Houses were?"

"That was…"

"Me, yes. I knew it was you the second you came into my compartment on the Hogwarts Express. You know why? Because I already disliked you." Draco's bottom lip quivered. Harry had to fight not to kiss him. He felt horrible. But it would all be worth it when he made his point in the end. "You'd been bragging about Quidditch and how you planned on bullying your father into getting you a broom.

Now look at Carina. She's still a Malfoy, isn't she? But she's nothing like that. She's a sweetheart. Do you know why that is?" Draco shook his head slowly, never moving his eyes from Harry's. "Because _you're _her father. And do you know what, Draco? I would bet all the Galleons in my Gringotts account that you would rather die than give her up to someone like Voldemort."

Draco was crying freely now, though he wasn't making any noises. He was hanging onto Harry's every word like he was reciting the meaning of life.

"You are nothing like your father, and you are _nothing_ like Voldemort or his followers. They don't know what love is—they don't _care _what love is. You've already got them beat there."

Draco stared at him for a few moments before saying anything.

"Why are you defending what I did?" he whispered.

What came out of Harry's mouth next was entirely accidental.

"Because I _love_ you," he said forcefully, and finally a single tear made its way down his left cheek. He couldn't believe he was saying it, but he couldn't avoid it anymore. It had come out on its own. And he couldn't find it in himself to dispute it. It felt too right. And the look of wonder on Draco's face, coupled with the incredulous, overwhelming happiness, made it okay. "And that's what you _do_ when you love someone. You _forgive_ them. And you help them. And you make things _right_ when you've fucked up. I should have trusted you. What you did during the War was horrible, yes, but…" Harry finally released Draco's arm in favor of cupping his face gently. "It's the past. Everything is the past. And we'll have forever to discuss it more if you'll just give me another chance, Draco, _please_."

Harry had been expecting a lot of things, such as a punch in the face, a knee to the groin, perhaps a hex or two, or maybe if he was lucky an ambiguous answer, but certainly not the chaste kiss on the lips he received.

"I'm sorry I bit your head off," Draco said, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I just thought that you'd finally come to your senses."

Harry lifted Draco's chin with his thumb and forefinger and smiled softly at him.

"We both have a lot to work on."

Harry was acutely aware of the fact that Draco hadn't said "I love you" back, but he wasn't tactless enough to bring that up. He was almost positive it was a conscious choice on Draco's part. That wasn't something that just slipped one's mind. But he let it go. He felt vulnerable for having put his uncertain feelings on the table like that without reciprocation, but right now it was worth it because he and Draco were okay again. Besides, he thought he could deal with saying that every day if it meant seeing Draco's face light up like that again.

_Merlin, I'm a sap_, he thought, smiling lightly to himself.

* * *

><p>Carina had opted to sleep in Hermione's room that night, which was all well and good for Harry, because that meant Draco could sleep in his room.<p>

It was one o'clock in the morning and they were cuddled together under Harry's duvet, Draco's head nestled in the crook of his neck. They'd been talking on and off about trivial things like Quidditch and schoolwork, though a silence had consumed them for the past half hour or so.

Harry was just beginning to fall asleep when he felt Draco start to pepper kisses on his throat. They made his toes curl and drew forth a very quiet whimper. He heard Draco chuckle and the pecks became a little more forceful, until he was fairly sucking on Harry's neck on top of his pulse point.

He unconsciously pulled Draco closer, which resulted only in a leg wrapping around his own and Draco's erection pressing into his hip.

Harry gasped and stretched his neck out, allowing Draco more access to his throat.

"What are you doing?" he breathed.

Draco stopped very suddenly and drew back to look at Harry, an eyebrow raised.

"I'm not sure I want a boyfriend who's that thick…"

In response Harry moved his hands to cup Draco's arse and pulled him forward, bringing their hips together and causing Draco to squeal in surprise. He had to catch himself with his hands on either side of Harry's chest. Harry laughed low in his throat. Their faces were centimeters apart.

"You've got quite a mouth on you," Harry said, smirking up at his blond boyfriend. Draco merely ground his hips down onto Harry's as payback for having put him in this position. Harry gasped and bit his lip. "Not that that's anything new," he choked out.

Draco leaned forward and said against Harry's ear, "I can think of something else I can do with my mouth…"

Harry's eyes went wide and he watched in silence as Draco crawled down the length of his body, pushing Harry's shirt up and kissing the skin underneath as he went. He propped himself up on his elbows in order to see Draco better, but the view of his blond head moving slowly down his bare abdomen only served to make him harder than before and he groaned.

Draco looked up at him and smirked, knowing exactly what had happened. He skipped over Harry's navel and instead skipped to the thick patch of hair trailing down below his boxers, which were the only form of pants he was wearing.

Harry found that his mouth was beginning to salivate heavily at the thought of having Draco's mouth on his cock. He'd had blow jobs before from Ginny, but this was different. This was Draco. This was another bloke. He just couldn't seem to get over how arousing it was to have another boy in bed with him.

"God, maybe I _am _gay," he whispered. And then he bit his lip because he hadn't meant to say it out loud. Draco looked up at him, smiling almost incredulously.

"Excuse me?" he laughed.

"Nothing." Harry's cheeks were flaming now but his erection was more important than his embarrassment. He needed relief _now_.

"Were you unsure?" Draco's voice was teasing and his hands were slowly making their way up Harry's thighs. Harry couldn't find any words. He merely glared, though it was interrupted by a groan when Draco kissed the tip of his cock through his boxers. "I can help you figure it out, if you'd like."

Since when was Draco so seductive? Not that Harry was complaining.

In the spirit of their relationship, though, he smirked and raised his eyebrows.

"You think you can live up to Ginny?"

For a moment he thought he'd gone too far—and maybe he had. The next thing Harry knew Draco had ripped his boxers down his thighs (which was painful considering the state of his arousal) and his tongue was licking a stripe up the underside of Harry's cock. Harry tried to thrust upward but was restrained by a pair of strong arms. Draco pulled himself up so that his and Harry's faces were centimeters apart again.

"This is _nothing_ like sex with a woman," Draco whispered and Harry found it was suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open and hold back a low moan. "I may be feminine, Potter, but I can make you scream louder than any girl could ever _hope _to."

And then he was back down at Harry's cock and he was licking the drop of pre-come from the tip. Harry groaned and tried thrusting again, but it was to no avail. Draco was stronger than he looked, not to mention his whole body weight was pressing down on Harry's hips.

He continued to tease him with his tongue for what felt like an eternity. Harry was a whimpering mess by the time Draco finally deigned to wrap his mouth around the head of Harry's cock, sucking like it was a particularly good lollipop.

"Fuck!" Harry shouted, prolonging the "u" for several seconds. Draco smirked around his length and took more, seemingly enjoying the way he was causing Harry to squirm.

Draco's mouth was so incredibly wet and warm that Harry wasn't sure how much longer he could possibly last. And for some reason, he was feeling decidedly hungry for Draco right now. He pushed most of his common sense (which had already been rapidly draining as more and more blood relocated to his cock) to the side and pulled Draco off his dick and up his body, changing their positions before Draco knew what had happened.

"W-what are you..?" Draco stammered, watching as Harry gently pulled his pajama pants off and threw them on the floor. He had nothing underneath and Harry was glad for that. He kissed the inside of Draco's thigh, reveling in the sounds it elicited. "Harry…"

"Shh," he whispered against Draco's skin, chuckling when he saw goose bumps rise there. "I want you right now."

He kneeled in the V of Draco's legs and took a moment to cover his index finger with saliva before smoothly sliding it between Draco's arse cheeks. Draco gasped and flinched away.

"It's okay, Draco," Harry said, moving forwards again and kissing his thigh once more as he slid his finger back into place. Draco whimpered and it sounded like a mixture of arousal and uncertainty. He looked up to find that Draco was torturing his bottom lip with his teeth. "I won't hurt you. Trust me."

As he ran his finger lightly across Draco's entrance he felt it tighten significantly at the same time that Draco cried out.

"I-I'm not ready, Harry," he gushed out, his chest heaving. His cheeks were positively red. Harry smiled softly.

"It's okay," he assured him, though a small part of his brain was highly annoyed. He hadn't really been thinking anymore, just going on male instinct. He wanted Draco so badly right now that the most sensible thing to do had been to fuck him. But he couldn't—not when Draco looked that uncomfortable. He took a deep breath. "We don't have to do anything you don't wanna do." But as he said it he rubbed Draco's puckered entrance again. He leaned up and kissed Draco on the lips. "A finger in your arse doesn't mean I have to fuck you, though," he whispered.

Draco stared up at him, eyes wide and curious. Harry moved down to nip at his neck near his ear.

"It'll feel so good, Draco. I wanna make you feel good."

Draco didn't say anything, so Harry put a little more pressure on his tight entrance, and when he was met with minimal resistance, pushed just the tip of his finger inside.

He had to squeeze his eyes shut. The heat was almost unbearable.

"H-Harry…" Harry kissed his neck again and pushed his finger another few centimeters inside Draco's tight body.

"How's it feel?" he whispered. He could feel Draco breathing beneath him, could feel him trembling and could hear the tiny whimpers that escaped his mouth at random intervals. "Tell me how it feels, Draco."

"More…"

Harry bit down harder on Draco's neck as he pushed his finger the rest of the way inside, using every ounce of willpower he possessed not to start finger-fucking him. Draco felt amazing—better than anything he'd experienced before. And it was only _one finger_. He groaned when he thought about how Draco's arse would feel clamped around his cock.

He pulled his finger out slowly and pushed it back in, starting up a rhythm that Draco could get used to. Apparently he did so quickly, because soon enough he was begging Harry for another finger.

Harry obliged, and before he knew it he had three fingers buried in Draco's arse, pounding into him and hitting his prostate on every other thrust. With his other hand Harry gripped Draco's cock and began stroking him in earnest. It was messy and neither boy really knew what he was doing, but it didn't seem to matter. Draco was arching and writhing and screaming like he'd never known pleasure before. Harry was working Draco to completion quickly, mouthing at his neck because that was all he could manage to do.

"Draco," he breathed. Draco moaned in response. "Are you gonna come for me, baby?"

Draco whined Harry's name and threw his head back. He sounded almost as though he were in pain.

"Tell me." Harry stilled his fingers inside of Draco's arse and licked his ear. "Tell me you wanna come."

It was a battle of wills between them—it always had been. But with one hand on Draco's cock and the other buried inside his arse Harry felt like he had the upper hand this time around. He grinned wickedly and gave Draco's cock a painful squeeze.

"_Tell _me," he said again.

And finally, in one long, heavy breath Draco said, "_Please_, Harry, _please _let me come!"

That was enough for Harry. He drove his fingers into Draco's arse faster and harder than before, pushing him toward the brink rapidly. When he finally screamed out his orgasm Harry was waiting for the feel of Draco's come to hit his chest. Never before had he fantasized about making a bloke come on him before, but here he was craving it more than anything in the world.

He milked Draco's cock for every last drop before leaning over to lick the excess off of Draco's stomach. There wasn't much. And once he'd finished, and Draco was trying to catch his breath, Harry climbed on top of him and kneeled above his abdomen.

He didn't give Draco a chance to ask questions before he started stroking himself quickly, alternating between looking down at Draco and remembering his face when he'd climaxed a moment ago. It didn't take very long, especially when Draco reached up and cupped his balls. He shouted his own orgasm, trying desperately to keep his eyes open so he could watch as Draco lifted himself up on his elbows so he could catch some in his mouth.

It was by far the most erotic thing Harry had ever seen in his life. He fell to the side of Draco and closed his eyes, basking in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm of his young life. He opened his eyes when he felt a soft hand on his stomach.

"Thank you," Draco whispered, and kissed him on the cheek.

"For what?"

"For not pushing me."

Harry smiled and turned his head so he could kiss him on the mouth, loving the taste of himself on Draco's lips.

"I would never push you."

"I know." He snuggled into Harry's side and breathed deeply. Harry wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, wondering if anything would ever feel so perfect again. Having Draco cuddled up at his side was like some kind of forbidden bliss.

"Draco," he said softly, remembering his conversation with Ginny from earlier.

"Mm?"

"What are you plans for Christmas?"

Draco looked up at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Christmas is more than a month away."

"I know, but I'm supposed to go back to the Weasleys' for break and I was just wondering if … well, if you'd come with me…"

"Come … with you to the Weasleys'..?"

Harry sighed and rolled onto his side so that they were facing completely.

"I know it's sudden. But Molly had sent Ginny to ask me today if I was coming and I asked Ginny to tell her mum that—er—that you might be coming as well."

Draco's eyes were wide. "You..?"

"Please, Draco." He kissed him again, longer this time. "I want to spend Christmas with you and Carina. _Please_ come to the Burrow with all of us. You've been getting along with Ron, and Hermione will be there, and I _know _Molly would be happy to have you two over."

"Harry, I…" He stopped and bit his lip. "I don't know if that's right… My family did so much to hurt theirs…"

"I told you before," Harry pressed. "This is a new start. That's all in the past. It would mean so much to me."

Draco seemed to contemplate this for a few moments. He looked uncertain.

"Please, Draco," he whispered again. And finally—_finally_—Draco nodded. Harry's smile stretched to both ears and he crushed his mouth against Draco's. "Thank you so much. I love you."

For the second time that day Draco did not reciprocate Harry's words. But it didn't matter—he'd be spending Christmas with the boy he loved and said boy's daughter. Harry could only imagine how much fun it would be.

As they got under the covers and prepared to go to sleep Harry promised himself that by the end of break, he'd get Draco to truly fall in love with him.


	14. Chapter 14

_This is the penultimate chapter! Time goes a bit quickly, but I think it makes enough sense. Hope you like it. :)_

_(Also, I'm terribly sorry about the amount of fluff in the beginning. The song is "Come, Josephine, in my Flying Machine" by Maire Brennan. Well, the one from Titanic is, at least. And that's the one I was listening to, obviously, because I like to torture myself with that movie every once in a while.)_

Chapter Fourteen

"…Is Dumbledore omniscient?"

Draco scowled at Harry as he began to laugh raucously, rolling around the floor of his own room similarly to the way he'd done when Draco's hair had been dyed red.

"Draco," he gasped, clutching at his stomach with one hand and pounding the floor with the other. "I… Dumbledore…"

This continued for another few minutes. Draco sat back in his chair and crossed his legs, waiting for his boyfriend to stop acting like a three-year-old. When Harry finally managed to catch his breath he sat up on his legs and looked at Draco, a crazy smile playing on his face.

"God, I just pictured Dumbledore sitting up in the sky on a cloud, just hangin' out, you know, watching everyone down on Earth. _Merlin_."

"I'm glad you found that so funny," Draco drawled.

Harry raised a brow. "You weren't serious…"

Draco huffed. "When I had that meeting with McGonagall the other day she kept saying things, like … like she knew what was going on everywhere in the school. She'd known you were outside with Carina showing her how to fly a broom."

Harry bit his lip, clearly holding back more laughter.

"I don't know if you'd noticed, Draco, but there are these holes in the walls called _windows_—"

"You won't finish that sentence if you plan on living to see Christmas," said Draco, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Harry smirked.

"Okay, okay. McGonagall knows shit she shouldn't. So what? Dumbledore was always like that. He's dead, though. What does this have to do with him?"

Draco dropped his arms and looked around, almost as though said former headmaster might be watching.

"When I was leaving the office I looked at his portrait and I _swear _I saw him smirk."

"That's because Dumbledore's _always _up to something, even when he's completely powerless inside of a portrait." He stopped and seemed to consider this. Then he laughed. "In fact, he probably does have something to do with it. Merlin knows I wouldn't be surprised if he found a way to jump out of the frame and walk around Hogwarts."

Now it was Draco's turn to laugh, though he didn't reduce himself to graceless fits of barbaric laughter.

"What does it matter, anyway?" Harry asked, looking genuinely interested now. He crossed his legs and leaned back on his arms, looking much too attractive, in Draco's opinion, to be allowed.

"I don't know. I suppose it doesn't."

Harry smiled softly and stood up, coming over to Draco's chair and sitting directly in his lap.

"Potter, you barbarian! Get off me!"

Harry laughed and stood up, but he brought Draco up with him. He sat down, then, in the chair and pulled Draco into his own lap, nuzzling his neck and wrapping his much larger arms around Draco's smaller frame.

Draco's would-be furious tirade was cut off sharply when he felt Harry's breath on his neck. That wasn't the startling part, though. It was the soft sound of Harry's voice in his ear. He was _singing_. It was breathy and almost inaudible, but Draco could hear it.

"Come, Josephine, in my flying machine... And it's up she goes, up she goes..."

Draco swallowed thickly and let his gaze fall on nothing in particular, so intent on focusing on Harry's voice was he. Goose bumps were rapidly spreading over his flesh as Harry continued to sing against his ear. Draco had no idea what the song was, but it sounded so achingly romantic that he swore tears would soon start pooling behind his eyes.

"Harry…" he whispered, but Harry ignored him, continuing instead to sing.

"Up, up, a little bit higher… Oh, my, the moon is on fire…"

Harry's arms wound more tightly around Draco's waist, pulling them flush against each other. Draco couldn't see Harry, but he could have sworn the other boy was in some kind of trance.

He turned his head so he could face Harry and finally he stopped singing and looked up at Draco. Indeed, he looked a bit confused for a moment.

"What was that?" Draco whispered. Harry smiled softly. He didn't say anything, though—instead he leaned in hesitantly and kissed Draco, pouring so much emotion into the kiss that for a moment Draco lost himself entirely.

"I love you," Harry whispered against his lips. Draco tensed. He was hyperaware of the fact that this was the third time Harry had said that to him and he had yet to say it back. He bit his lip, afraid this might be the time Harry would call him out on it. To his immense relief, however, Harry merely chuckled and kissed him again before nuzzling his neck once more. Draco ran his hands through Harry's hair—closed his eyes and rested his head on top of Harry's.

He didn't know yet how he felt about the word "love," but he couldn't pretend his stomach wasn't beginning to ache with something dangerously close to it.

* * *

><p>Draco walked with Carina and Hermione to Ancient Runes, a class which they did not share with Harry or Ron. Hermione was nattering on about a test they had coming up, one which she did not feel she was adequately prepared for.<p>

"Will you stop worrying?" Draco laughed. Hermione glared at him as they stopped outside the classroom, ignoring the looks from their classmates that still hadn't ceased. Yesterday had been Harry and Draco's two-month anniversary, and yet the rest of Hogwarts continued to act as though this was a recent development.

"If I fail this test, Draco, how can I expect to pass my—!"

"You won't fail!" Draco grabbed Hermione's bundle of notes and held them high up so she couldn't reach, though she certainly tried. Carina stood next to Hermione giggling at the immature display.

"Draco! What are you doing! Give those back!"

"Let's see," he said, rifling through the thick stack of parchment above his head. "This is, what, six feet worth of notes?" He looked down at Carina and winked. "Think Hermione'll pass the test?"

The little girl nodded fervently with her thumb in her mouth and Hermione smiled grudgingly. "Don't worry, Hermany, you will be great!" She grabbed Hermione's hand and re-situated her thumb, attempting to smile around the digit. Hermione chuckled and rolled her eyes.

"See? And Malfoys are never wrong."

"Oh, please," Hermione mumbled just as the door to the classroom opened and the class began filing inside. She turned to Draco. "You'd better hope that's true."

"Or what?" Draco teased.

"Or I'll monopolize your boyfriend over break."

Draco's mouth fell open as she turned to walk into the room, Carina following behind her. "You're an evil woman, Granger!" he hissed.

* * *

><p>Draco's stomach was doing incredible backflips as he boarded the train ahead of the Gryffindor trio. He was forcibly reminded of the beginning of the year when he'd discreetly boarded with Carina, praying no one would notice them. He didn't particularly care anymore, but that didn't mean the stares didn't make him uncomfortable. They <em>did<em>. He studiously ignored them, though, focusing instead on finding an empty compartment. When he did, he opened the door and ushered Carina inside ahead of him. Harry came up behind him and took hold of the door.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, turning to face Harry. Harry gave him a sideways smile that caused butterflies to start whirring around in his stomach.

"Holding the door for you."

Draco blushed furiously and was about to argue when Ron said loudly, "Oh, for crying out loud, can we save your romantics for later?"

"You'll shut your mouth and hold the door for _me _if you know what's good for you, Ronald Weasley."

Ron huffed and held the door for Hermione once Harry and Draco had gone inside, the former laughing at his best friend.

Carina took up space on Harry's lap, leaning her head against his chest and going immediately to sleep. Emilie and Crookshanks slept peacefully side-by-side next to Ron.

* * *

><p>Harry ran his fingers through Carina's hair, smiling softly down at her sleeping form. He looked up, however, when he felt Draco lay his head on Harry's shoulder and make a content little sigh. His eyes were closed and his pale lashes just brushed his cheekbones. He'd threaded his fingers with Harry's on the hand that was resting on the seat, the other still preoccupied with Carina.<p>

Harry felt a warm, bubbling sensation in his stomach as he looked at Draco, and he felt his throat tighten. For what felt like the hundredth time in the past few days he asked himself two things: first, how had he fallen so in love with someone so quickly? Secondly, and most curiously, how had he never before noticed how beautiful Draco was? He wasn't perfect by any means; he was still a bit gaunt due to the War, his personality certainly had its drawbacks, he had a tiny scar just under his left eye that he'd once complained about to Harry, but these things only made him better in Harry's eyes.

He gently released Draco's hand in favor of wrapping it around his small waist and pulling him closer. Draco smiled with his eyes still shut and leaned into the embrace.

When Harry looked up again Ron and Hermione were both staring at them, Hermione biting her lip to hide a very large smile and Ron smirking, an eyebrow raised.

Hermione pointed silently at Draco and Carina and then said silently, "They look so alike." Harry's smile grew and he nodded. She pointed at Draco again and mouthed, "Question" and "later."

Harry's eyebrows dipped but he nodded, wondering what she could have to ask him about Draco. He looked to Ron but he simply shrugged, apparently having no more idea as to what was going on inside Hermione's mind than Harry did.

...

A few hours passed and Carina had moved to Ron's lap at some point and amused herself by spewing out arbitrary letters and asking what they spelled. Harry had taken this opportunity to move so he was sitting with his back against the window, Draco lying next to him against the back of the seat with his head on Harry's chest. He'd hardly woken when Harry had done this, only mumbling something sleepily which Harry had found absolutely adorable. Ron had found it rather funny.

Hermione currently had her nose buried in a book, Ron was now amusing Carina by reading her a story out of Hermione's copy of Beedle the Bard, and Harry was idly stroking Draco's arm, staring out into the corridor and watching students periodically pass by.

"What would _you_ want from the Fountain?" Carina asked Ron after he'd finished _The Fountain of Fair Fortune_.

"Hmm," he mused, pursing his lips in mock concentration. "I think I'd like a wicked new pair of trainers!"

"Very humble," Hermione laughed.

"No, you have to want something nice!" Carina said, jabbing the book with a finger. "Like for no one to be mean to anyone!"

"Is that what you'd wish for?" Ron asked, smiling adoringly down at the little girl in his lap. Carina seemed to think about this for a moment before turning to look at Harry and her father, cuddled up together on the opposite seat. Harry was still staring blankly out into the corridor.

"No," she said, starting to smile. "I would wish for Harry to always love me and Papa forever and ever so Papa will be happy all the time!"

At the mention of his name Harry looked over, and by the end of Carina's sentence he was smiling at her.

"I already promised, didn't I?" he said softly. Carina blushed and nodded. She leaned up in Ron's lap then and hugged him around his neck. Ron chuckled and hugged her back.

"And I would wish for you and Hermany to be my friends forever, too!"

"Think Draco was this cute when he was three?" Hermione asked, smirking.

"Not if his eleven-year-old self is anything to go by," Ron mumbled. Hermione hit him in the arm but Harry saw she was smiling.

"You knew Papa when he was little?" Carina gasped.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked at each other, all wondering the same thing: what in the world did they tell her? Of course they'd known him, but their memories of him were nothing but bad ones.

"Er—a little bit," Hermione said carefully. Carina's eyes went wide with curiosity and excitement. "But we weren't friends with him, exactly."

Carina looked crestfallen. "Why not?"

"We just didn't know him very well." Hermione looked extremely uncomfortable. Harry wished he could come up with a story quickly, something that would mollify Carina without being a total lie.

"We were in a different House than him," Ron cut in, and both and Harry and Hermione looked at him sharply, as though waiting for him to say something he shouldn't. "We just didn't see him very much. He had his own friends, right?"

Hermione nodded fervently, planting a smile back on her face and looking at Carina.

"Exactly. He had friends in his own House and back then, before—er—well, back when we were little people stuck with their own Houses a bit more."

"What's a House?" Carina asked quietly, though she looked more satisfied than before.

"Oh… Well, you know how your dad wears a green tie? And he has that little green patch with a snake on his robes?" Carina looked over to her father and nodded. "And see how Harry, Ron, and I have the red and gold ties and a little lion on our patch? That's our House. Your dad never told you about them?" Carina shook her head and eyed Ron's patch more closely. Hermione looked to Harry, a smile forming on her lips. "He really has changed," she said quietly. "He didn't even tell her what Slytherin is."

Harry looked down at Draco fondly and slipped a hand beneath one pale arm to rest on his stomach. Beneath his robes he was wearing very casual clothes today—and Harry thought it looked amazing. He loved how Draco normally dressed, sure, but seeing him in a plain, navy blue V-neck and a pair of faded denims had Harry's mouth watering. To be completely honest, though, he thought the clothes would look even better _off _of Draco's body.

"That's why we live in different places," Hermione continued to explain. "The Houses are just like little groups at Hogwarts."

"You can't be friends with people if they aren't in your House?" Carina asked sadly.

"Oh, no, no, no, of course you can! Back when we, and your father, first came to Hogwarts people weren't as friendly, though. Things are different now."

"Why are they different?"

"Boy, she likes to ask questions, doesn't she?" Ron sighed.

"I'm not sure," Hermione said, and Harry could tell she felt bad for lying. But he knew why she was doing it: if Draco hadn't spoken about the War to Carina, then it certainly wasn't their place to do so. He just hoped Draco planned on doing it before Carina inevitably found out for herself in books, newspapers, magazines, etc. "But I'm glad it is."

"Me too." Carina rested her head against Ron's chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth, seemingly preparing to nap again. They still had a few hours before they'd be in London.

* * *

><p>Draco was a nervous wreck when they stepped onto Platform 9¾ . His hands were sweating and he was aware of the fact that he was holding Harry's hand much too tightly, but he couldn't help it. He was so sure one of the Weasleys would try to kill him. Why wouldn't they? His father had been absolutely horrible to them and Draco himself had always given them a hard time about their hair, their house, and their money.<p>

He was doomed.

Carina, on the other hand, had bounce in her step as she walked alongside Hermione toward the group of three gingers waiting in the station.

"Bill!" Ginny Weasley ran up to someone Draco assumed was a brother, though he looked astonishingly different than the other Weasleys. He had long hair tied into a ponytail and a—was that a _fang _in his ear? The most noticeable part of his appearance, though, was a myriad of scars on his face.

As he and Harry got closer Mrs. Weasley came right up to him, to his immense surprise, and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"This must be hard for you," she said kindly. "Just know that you are entirely welcome in our home."

"Thank you," Draco said quietly, staring up at this woman who was the very embodiment of a mother, and suddenly the death of his own mother washed over him more intensely than it had in a long time. He felt Harry grab his hand and squeeze. Draco looked around at him and then at the ground, terrified that he might start crying right here in front of everyone. Mrs. Weasley seemed to notice because she quickly turned her attention to Carina.

"Hello!" she said brightly, and leaned over so they were face-to-face. Carina blushed and scuffed her shoe on the ground.

"Hi," she giggled.

"Oh, aren't you adorable!" Mrs. Weasley laughed. "What's your name, dear?"

"Carina."

"Beautiful. My name's Molly." Mrs. Weasley held out her hand and Carina shook it, still giggling. "You can call me Grandma Molly if you'd like."

Draco gaped at her. Mrs. Weasley looked up at him and said, "If that's alright with your father, of course."

"Oh, I… Yes, of course," he said hurriedly. Harry wrapped an arm around Draco's waist this time and kissed his cheek.

"Now she has a grandma," he whispered. Draco wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back tears.

Mr. Weasley introduced himself as well, and as the two adults were greeting their children and Hermione Bill came over and extended a hand to Draco.

"Bill Weasley," he said, and he was smirking. Draco became immediately suspicious.

"Draco Malfoy," he said slowly. He felt Harry tense up next to him. He wanted to ask, but knew better. He'd have to ask later.

"It's nice to meet you. Mum's been gushing recently, you know, with you being her little baby Harry's love interest and all."

"Bill," Harry groaned. Bill laughed, and Draco thought it sounded a little like a bark.

"Just telling the truth." He held his hands out in defense. "You'd think she didn't care about Ginny the way she went on about you, Harry, after she heard you two had broken up."

"How did she find out?"

"Ginny wrote." At Harry's expression he hurried on, "It wasn't anything too detailed or bad about you. Just said you two had broken up. Then mum wrote Ron and asked how you were doing and he told her you were doing really well. She kept writing after that, asking who the new bird was, because she had it in her head that you must have found someone else, and I tried to make her stop because it was getting weird, really, but finally Ron told her you were seeing a bloke. Told her it wasn't his place to say who."

"How does one mature so much in one year?" Draco drawled. Bill and Harry both laughed.

"She found out it was you, though, when Ginny wrote saying that you and your daughter were coming.

"Speaking of, I think she'll like the fact that she won't be the youngest at the Christmas party."

Draco said "What?" at the same time that Harry exclaimed "Teddy!"

"Model godfather already, Harry," Bill teased.

"Godfather?"

"Lupin and Tonks's baby. Lupin named me his godfather just before he died."

"Where is he living?" Draco asked quietly.

"With his grandparents. Tonks's mum and dad. I haven't seen him since July! How is he?"

"I haven't either," Bill said. "But mum said he's gotten big. He's, what, nearly two now?"

"Yeah. Wow," Harry breathed. Harry's face was alight with happiness and Draco suddenly found himself feeling scared again. This was Harry's territory—Draco didn't belong here. He didn't know these people, had never gotten along with most of them. Would Harry forget about him? Or worse, realize he doesn't really want Draco in his life?

As if to quell these fears Harry turned to him and said, "I can't wait for you to meet Teddy. You'll love him." Then he kissed Draco, right on the lips, in front of all the Weasleys, and Draco couldn't help smiling into the kiss like a fool. "What?" Harry laughed as he pulled back, obviously having felt Draco's smile.

"Nothing." Draco shook his head and pecked Harry again lightly. "Thank you for bringing me."

"Alright, everyone ready to go?" Draco, Bill, and Harry all looked around to see Mr. Weasley waving toward the exit. Harry grabbed Draco's hand and, with a squeeze and another smile, led the way toward unknown territory.

* * *

><p>The Weasleys' house was more like a bunch of different pieces of other houses stacked on top of each other. Which was why Draco couldn't explain to himself why it felt so damn good inside. It smelled like food—different than the kitchen at the Manor, though. It smelled like Mrs. Weasley had just been cooking. And it was bright and filled with pictures of the family and just an all-around <em>good <em>feeling. Draco couldn't help looking around in awe when he stepped inside.

"This is really lovely," he heard himself saying, eyes landing on a clock that bore the faces of the whole Weasley clan and different words to describe their situations. He'd seen one like it before in some relative's house. Next to him, Harry was grinning like an idiot.

"Oh, thank you, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling in a surprised way. "Please, make yourself at home. Harry usually stays in Ron's room, so you can stay in there as well. Carina, how would you like to share a room with Ginny and Hermione?"

Draco's jaw nearly hit the ground when Ginny held out her hand to Carina and said, "Come on, I'll show you where it is." He turned to find that Harry was in a similar state.

Carina didn't seem to find this odd because she gladly followed Ginny up a set of stairs and out of sight.

"What just happened?" Ron asked.

"Still thick-headed, eh, Ronnie?" Bill said, but before Ron could land a punch he'd walked from the room, laughing as he did so.

"Are Percy, George, or Charlie here?" Harry asked.

_Oh, good Lord, how many are there? _Draco thought desperately.

"Percy and George are at work, but they're coming for dinner tonight. Charlie hasn't come in from Romania yet. He'll be here on the twenty-second," Mr. Weasley explained.

"What about Fleur?" Hermione asked. Draco had no idea who this was, but he was fairly certain it couldn't be a Weasley because he was sure Ginny was the only girl.

"Oh, she's at their cottage," Mrs. Weasley said as she began bustling about the kitchen, continuing to cook. Mr. Weasley left the room in the direction Bill had gone and that left Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione, the latter two of whom had taken a seat at the table. Harry dragged Draco over and held out a chair for him.

"My perfect gentleman," Draco said, flashing Harry a smirk as he took a seat. Ron snorted into his glass of Pumpkin Juice and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"So why's Bill here?" Hermione asked.

"He just wanted to come with to get you guys from the train. He's leaving after dinner." Mrs. Weasley turned and gave the four of them a decidedly devious smile. "I think Fleur's pregnant," she whispered. Hermione squealed and Ron gasped.

"Really?" Harry asked excitedly.

"They haven't said anything, but I can spot a baby bump a mile away," Mrs. Weasley said proudly. Draco laughed. "And besides, Bill said she's been feeling sick in the morning."

"Oh, how exciting!" Hermione said, sitting up straighter in her chair. "I hope it's true!"

At that moment there was the sound of footsteps on the stairs and Carina came bounding back into the kitchen, Ginny behind her. Ginny, however, left for the room in which Mr. Weasley and Bill now presumably sat.

"How would you like to help me cook dinner?" Mrs. Weasley asked, and Carina positively squealed with excitement. Draco watched in amusement as Carina climbed up on a stool and began stirring something Mrs. Weasley had passed to her.

"Papa?" Carina asked, spinning suddenly on the stool. Her hands were covered in some sort of dough.

"Yes?" he laughed.

"Why don't we cook at our home?"

"The elves do it, sweetheart. Daddy doesn't know how to cook."

"You don't know how to cook?" Harry asked, grinning much too widely at him.

"I grew up in a strictly magical household, Potter," he drawled, brushing invisible dust off his shoulder. He stopped, though, and looked at Harry, mouth open as though he'd been offended.

"What?" Harry asked, looking suddenly afraid.

"You never told me about that elf!" Draco accused, pointing a finger at his boyfriend. "That elf at Carina's party! You said you'd tell me about him!"

"Oh…" Harry said sheepishly. "That…."

"Thought I'd forget, eh, Potter? I don't think so. Spill."

"What elf?" Ron interrupted. "Kreacher?"

"That's the one!" Draco glared at Harry.

"What didn't you tell him?" Hermione asked. Harry looked at his friends sharply, as though he was trying to convey a message. Hermione seemed to finally understand because her eyes went wide in recognition and then she giggled. Ron, however, remained clueless.

"Am I missing something?" Ron asked loudly.

"Don't you remember?" Hermione said to him. Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "Sixth year? Harry had Kreacher—"

"Stalk Malfoy! Yeah!"

"Ron!"

"What?" Draco turned to Harry, biting his lips in an attempt to contain his laughter. "You did what sixth year?"

"Ron, you are such a git!"

"Oh, hush, Harry, you would have told him at some point," Hermione laughed. Harry crossed his arms over his chest moodily.

"I'm sorry. Let me get this straight. You had your house-elf _stalk _me sixth year?"

"Not just one, either," Ron said, beginning to enjoy himself. "He had Kreacher _and _Dobby following you around the school!"

"Why?"

"He was _obsessed_ with you," Ron sighed, and Harry flushed bright red. Draco smirked at him. "Thought you were up to _something_—" But he trailed off, suddenly looking sheepish. This time Draco knew why. He looked to Harry.

"You knew?"

"I didn't," Harry said quietly. "I just suspected."

"Suspected what?"

"I don't know. That you were up to something."

Draco felt like something was squeezing his stomach. Harry had known? The whole time? Had he been in the room while he'd been working on the Cabinet?

Mrs. Weasley was talking quietly to Carina while she was helping her stir something in a different bowl and Draco had the feeling she was trying to be polite and not listen in on their conversation. He grudgingly admitted that this woman had more class than he'd previously guessed.

"What did you think I was—?"

"Look, it doesn't matter," Harry said rather harshly. His face softened again quickly, though, and he grabbed Draco's hand that was resting on the table. "I keep telling you that's the past."

"We'll have to talk about it at some point, Harry," Draco said quietly.

"We will," Harry assured him, squeezing his hand gently. "In private, and not when we've just gotten to the Burrow."

Their conversation was once again disrupted, this time by a swift knock on the door. A moment later it swung inward and George Weasley walked inside. The only reason Draco knew this was George was because he remembered, very vividly, seeing Fred Weasley killed outside of the Room of Requirement. He didn't remember George not having one of his ears, but that could have been because he wasn't really looking.

"Hullo," he said brightly to the room at large, eyes landing only briefly on Draco. He strolled over to his mum and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Hello, George, darling," she said. "This is Carina, Draco's daughter. Carina, this is my son, George."

"Hello," she said shyly. George smiled and bowed deeply.

"The pleasure is all mine, madam."

Carina giggled as he took her small hand and planted a kiss on it. He spun around, then, and grinned mischievously at his brother.

"Ickle Ronniekins," he sung, walking slowly over to the chair where he sat. Ron bolted out of his seat and eyed George warily.

"This is no way to greet your brother!" Ron yelled, clearly assuming the worst.

"But, little brother, I only wanted to give you a hug."

Ron glared at him and continued to circle the table as George followed predatorily.

"Oh, George, stop it," Mrs. Weasley said calmly, as though she'd said it many, many times before in the past. Draco didn't doubt that she had. He was surprised when George smiled and finally sat down at the table next to Hermione, taking Ron's seat.

"Hey!" Ron yelled indignantly.

"Shouldn'ta gotten up," George said with a shrug.

"You were gonna … do something to me!"

"I resent that, little brother." Before Ron could say something else George directed his attention to Harry. "Savior. How nice to see you again. How have you been?"

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes with a laugh.

"I've been great. How about you, George?"

George leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head.

"Business is booming," he said. Ron scoffed. "Don't be jealous, Ronnie. Someday, if you work really hard, maybe you can be our—my official product-tester." Draco heard the slip-up and looked down at the table, feeling himself blush. He felt horrible having just been in his presence when his brother had died. The slip-up must have affected Ron, too, because he sobered quite a bit.

"Stuff it, George," he said with a weak smile. George sighed and let the front legs of his chair fall back onto the ground.

"So," he said, looking between Harry and Draco, "this is for real, huh?"

"Yeah," said Harry, a half-smile pulling the corner of his lips. George nodded slowly.

"Crazy. How long?"

"The thirteenth was three months," said Harry. Draco smiled to himself and squeezed Harry's hand. Harry laughed quietly beside him.

George whistled. "Shit. You're really serious."

"George!" Mrs. Weasley yelled. Carina giggled.

"Sorry, mum! I mean, _wow_, you guys are really serious!"

Harry nodded as Mrs. Weasley began shrieking that dinner was ready. Mr. Weasley, Ginny, and Bill came in from the other room and sat down at the table while Carina took a spot next to Draco.

"What about Percy?" George asked as Mrs. Weasley flicked her wand and the food sorted itself onto the table.

"He'll be home any moment. Go ahead and start eating."

Draco was in the middle of putting food on Carina's plate when Harry leaned over and whispered in his ear, "How are you doing?"

"Fine," he chuckled, trying not to shiver from the feeling of Harry's breath on his neck. "But I appreciate your concern." He turned to give Harry a quick kiss on the lips.

"Oh, will you look at those manners!" Mrs. Weasley said, beaming at Carina.

"That's right," said Draco, placing a napkin on his daughter's lap. "And what do we say to Mrs. Weasley?"

"Thank you!" she practically yelled.

"You're very welcome, my dear! Now, if only you lot could learn some manners."

"Fat chance," George laughed, a bit of food flying from his mouth. Carina laughed until Draco raised an eyebrow at her, at which point she covered her mouth with a hand to stifle it, though a smile was still visible underneath.


	15. Chapter 15

_I can't believe I'm putting up the last chapter. I so thoroughly enjoyed writing this story and you guys and all your reviews made even better. I hope this is a satisfying ending for you. :)_

Chapter Fifteen

The Weasleys (along with Harry and Hermione) were outside playing Quidditch. Draco had told Harry that he and Carina would join them soon—he needed to have a talk with his daughter.

It was the twenty-third, Charlie had come home, and Draco had now met all the Weasleys, including Percy, who had been only a little less than warm. They'd also met Teddy Lupin, whom Carina had taken a special liking to. Having been surrounded by people so much older than her at Hogwarts for so long, this had been like a special treat. Teddy would be one in April. Carina certainly felt like a big shot around the little boy. She particularly enjoyed the way his hair would change colors every once in a while.

Draco had sat Carina down in a chair in the kitchen, ignoring the pout set firmly on her lips. She had not been happy about being kept from going outside with the others.

"Carina," Draco said softly, taking his daughter's hand. She continued to pout. "This is very important, darling. I need you to listen to me." At this she seemed to become marginally more interested. "Tell me what you think about Harry."

"I love Harry!" She sat up straighter in her chair, as though she'd been accused otherwise. Draco laughed.

"I'm glad." He bit his lip and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Sweetheart, you know how most children have a mummy and a daddy that are married and love each other?" Carina nodded slowly. "You and I… We weren't so lucky. Your mum died two years ago and left us alone with each other. You don't remember her very much, do you?"

"No…" Carina said softly. Draco squeezed her hand.

"She was beautiful, just like you." Carina smiled, though it wasn't her usual, bright smile. Draco thought he could sense tears coming on and he wanted to stop before they came, but he knew this had to be done. He'd been dreading it, of course, but it simply couldn't be put off any longer. He sighed and went right into it. "Sometimes, 'Rina, boys can … they can love other boys. And I—"

"Harry told me that," said Carina, her small voice cutting sharply across Draco's.

"What?"

"Harry told me boys can like boys."

Draco swallowed thickly and shut his eyes for a moment. Admittedly, he was a little concerned as to what Harry might have said to Carina, but he supposed that was out of the way right now, at least. He made a mental note to ask later.

"Good. That's good. Well, I… I like Harry a lot, too, and—"

Once again Carina cut him off.

"Papa?"

The look on Carina's face was a bit unsettling. Like she knew something that she shouldn't. That a _three-year-old_ shouldn't. Shouldn't be _able _to.

"Yes?"

She climbed onto his lap and rested her cheek against Draco's heart and he closed his eyes again, settling a hand on her other cheek and holding her there.

"You love him, don't you." It wasn't a question. It was more of a statement—an understanding. But the way she said it sounded so innocent—as though she didn't know exactly what she was saying. But it brought tears to Draco's eyes anyway because _he_ knew what it meant and he'd been trying _so_ hard for _so _long now to deny it. "Like mummies and daddies do."

"Yes," he whispered finally, dropping his own head onto Carina's as he did so. "I do."

"I miss mummy," she said softly, and this time Draco could hear the tears in her voice. It was heart-wrenching. He wished he could tell her he did too, but he didn't. He hadn't loved her. He missed her in a way that anyone would miss someone who died, but not like a lover. Not like he knew he'd miss Harry.

"I know," he said instead.

"Can people have two daddies?" she asked suddenly. Draco froze.

"…What?"

"Since I don't have a mummy anymore," she said, and Draco's insides starting crawling around horribly, "can Harry be my other daddy?"

Draco didn't have the slightest clue as to what he should say to that. It was such a large question. He'd never even told Harry he _loved_ him. He still wasn't even sure about how much he _did_! It was all so knew, so confusing. The implications of admitting something like that were… They were potentially catastrophic!

"I… That's a big question, sweetheart. Harry and I have only been together for…" And then he stopped, because something occurred to him. He and Harry had been together for three months. So what? Did it matter?_Really_? Did they have to get married and make vows and be squishy and lovey-dovey for Harry to be Carina's other parental figure?

_No,_ something inside of him said. Because that's not how he and Harry worked, anyway. They never had. Everything was a bit confusing and sloppy, but that's what made it so special to Draco. Despite everything, they were together, and Harry _loved_him and Draco thought he was reaching the point of no return very, very quickly.

So he smiled to himself and nuzzled Carina's soft blond hair and said, "I think so."

"Good." They were both silent for a few moments, Draco considering everything that had just been said while Carina breathed steadily in his lap. "Papa?"

"Mm?"

"Can we go outside now?"

Draco laughed softly and put Carina on the floor. She was sucking her thumb.

"Yes we can. They're playing Quidditch, maybe you can pick up a few pointers, eh?" He winked at her but she only cocked her head. He rolled his eyes at himself as he led the way to the door. "In time, I suppose."

* * *

><p>Harry had no idea what Draco had wanted to talk to Carina about, but he hadn't asked. Draco had looked extremely solemn. They'd been inside for a good ten minutes now and Harry had just hopped off his broom because George had called a time out.<p>

Hermione was sitting on the grass knitting something—presumably some sort of clothing for Kreacher, as she'd been wont to do lately—and Harry sat down beside her.

"Hey," he said, eyeing the clothing with a smirk. She certainly had improved a lot since fourth year. The Halloween costumes alone had been a testament to that. Hermione smiled at him and put the needles down.

"Hi, Harry."

"What did you wanna ask me about Draco on the train?" He'd been itching to know, but he and Hermione hadn't had much time alone since they'd gotten to the Burrow. This felt like the perfect opportunity for interrogation.

"Oh! I'm so glad you reminded me. Well, it's not so much a question as it is an observation." Harry raised a brow, silently prodding her on. "Right. Have you noticed that Draco's been different since you two started dating?"

"Are you joking?" Harry laughed. "I wouldn't have started dating him if he hadn't been different."

"I don't mean in that way," she said. Harry's eyebrows dipped. "He was already a bit different when we came to Hogwarts, what with Carina and all. I mean since you started dating him. Have you noticed anything different?"

Was she getting at something? Was he a bad boyfriend for not noticing? Harry suddenly felt nervous.

"Er—I don't think so…"

"Really?" she asked with a smile. "You haven't noticed the way he's a little looser? You haven't noticed the more effeminate way he's been carrying himself?"

"The … what?" Yes, he'd noticed that Draco's a bit feminine. But Harry found it endearing and sexy. Was Hermione implying this was a bad thing? "He's a little feminine, Hermione, so what?"

"I'm not criticizing it," she said softly. "I'm just pointing out that he didn't used to be like that. And I think it's because… Well, I'm willing to bet it has something to do with the fact that you make him feel comfortable."

The thought made Harry's stomach feel all warm and tingly. He smiled unintentionally.

"You really think so?"

"Well, he certainly wasn't that feminine _before_, was he? I'd never even guessed he was _gay_."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," said Harry, nodding to himself. "Wow. But … how did I do that?"

Hermione laughed and Harry felt himself blush. "Just by loving him," she said, placing a hand on top of his. "Draco hasn't had someone accept him the way you do in… Well, I don't think he ever has, really. I doubt somehow that his parents would have liked the idea of a gay heir."

Harry smiled down at their hands and tried to think about the way Draco had changed this year. Just in a few short months he'd become another person—in a good way, though. He still had that snarky attitude that could easily get on Harry's nerves, and he was still a little bitch, but that was what made him Draco.

"'Mione," he said softly.

"Yeah?"

"I think I love him."

He looked up and saw her nodding. "I know."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do."

"You don't think I'm being ridiculous? You don't think it's too early? Aren't you supposed to be the rational one?"

Hermione laughed. "Harry, love isn't rational." Harry scoffed.

"Right. Thanks, Dumbledore."

Hermione fell back on the ground and laughed again, this time louder. Harry looked down at her with a brow raised.

"You know, that's the second time I've been sarcastically called Dumbledore since this year has started."

Harry lay down next to her so their heads were centimeters apart, though they both stared up at the sky. "Who else called you Dumbledore?"

"Ron."

"What? When?"

"In Hogsmeade one time. While you and Draco were buying Carina's birthday presents."

"Why'd he call you Dumbledore?"

He saw Hermione turn her head peripherally so he did too. He could see the color of her eyes perfectly from this distance.

"I don't remember," she said. Harry had the feeling she did, in fact, remember, but he didn't push. He only smiled.

"Oi, Weasley, I think our significant others have gotten together. Fancy doing the same?"

Harry looked up to see Draco and Carina walking toward them, then turned to look at Ron when he heard said red head making gagging sounds.

"Yes, he'll do," George said, nodding at Draco. He looked to Harry. "He'll do very well."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Thanks, George."

* * *

><p>Draco was astounded by the amount of food that had been made without house-elves. Molly Weasley certainly did not take Christmas Eve lightly. Everyone had come to the Burrow for dinner and helped to set up a huge, weather-impenetrable tent out back, where a large table was put together along with beautiful Christmas decorations.<p>

"Everyone" included literally _everyone_: there was Teddy Lupin and his grandparents, Bill and Fleur Weasley, Charlie, Percy, some nasty little creature whom Draco thought was called Mundungus, and even _Kinglsey Shacklebolt_, the bloody Minister of Magic.

After they'd all eaten most guests had gone home, save Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, and Teddy, who was staying without his grandparents.

Everyone who was left retired to the living room in the Burrow, where Mr. Weasley set up a fire in the pit and Mrs. Weasley put on Celestina Warbeck, to almost everyone's chagrin.

Harry pulled Draco over to a couch and curled up with him while Carina drew pictures on the floor with Teddy. Even Ron and Hermione cuddled up, though they didn't usually like being touchy or intimate in public.

The family talked and joked and laughed and Draco felt an odd sensation in his stomach—like a balloon was swelling, and he felt ridiculously happy and warm. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley said goodnight around eleven, told everyone not to stay up too late so they'd be able to get up for Christmas tomorrow morning, and left them alone so it was only the children—well, the young adults, Draco thought wryly, and the actual children.

"Isn't it past your bedtime?" Draco said to Carina, who was still furiously scribbling away on a piece of parchment, though Teddy had fallen asleep on his own and was drooling.

"Nonsense!" George shouted. "Bedtimes are just made up by parents to suppress children."

"What?" Hermione laughed. "Where did you even come up with that?"

"It's a fact," he said seriously.

"Teddy disagrees with you," said Harry, and as if on cue Teddy wiggled a bit in his sleep.

"Probably a Hufflepuff," said George.

"What's a Huffpuff?" Carina asked idly, never taking her eyes off the parchment. Harry chuckled.

"That's a very good question," said George. "And one I cannot answer."

"Not a very diverse group here," Hermione observed, looking around the room.

"Nope," Bill smirked. "Just us noble Gryffindors and Harry's snake over there."

"Leave Harry's snake alone, I happen to like it."

Harry's head whipped around and he looked at Draco with his mouth open and eyes wide as the rest of the room burst into laughter. Draco smiled innocently at his boyfriend.

"What? I do."

"Oh my God, who knew he was funny?" George, for the second time, nodded approvingly at Draco.

Harry noticed Ginny blushing furiously where she sat next to George, though she didn't say anything. He wished Draco would be a little more subtle, if only for Ginny's sake, because Harry _did_still care about her, but he knew it was hopeless. Draco didn't tend to think about others unless it was family—or, more recently, Harry himself.

"I'm gonna put Teddy to bed," Harry announced, removing his arm from Draco's shoulders and standing up. "You wanna meet me in our room?" Draco nodded, standing up as well.

"Speaking of, I'm staying in Hermione and Ginny's room tonight," said Ron with a hand raised. Harry smirked at him. He and Draco hadn't had the room alone at night since they'd been there.

"Sounds good to me."

George wolf-whistled.

"In which case, I'm staying in George's room," Ginny said, an eyebrow raised at Ron. And then, after some thought, she added, "And I'm taking Carina with me."

"Yes!" George punched the air. "Best bunk-mate _ever_!"

Carina giggled.

"If I don't' sleep tonight, I blame all of you," said Percy. Harry laughed and went to gingerly pick Teddy up, resting the small boy on his hip. Teddy's head fell onto Harry's shoulder.

"Papa, will you tuck me in?" Carina asked.

"Of course, darling. Come on."

As Harry started up the stairs with Teddy, who was staying in Bill and Fleur's room, Draco and Carina headed to George's room, Ginny following behind.

The room had no beds—instead there were two hammocks, one which Draco assumed had once belonged to Fred. He felt his stomach turn. Behind him, he heard Ginny sigh.

"It'll be easy to set up another bed," she said, walking slowly over to Fred's hammock. She sat down in it and let her feet dangle, staring at the ground. Draco watched as Carina went over to her, having sensed that something was wrong. Carina tugged on her trousers.

"Why are you sad?" she asked quietly. Ginny looked at her for a moment before pulling her up into her lap.

"Did you know George used to have a twin?" she asked.

"Really?"

"Yep. This was his bed," Ginny said, bouncing a little in the hammock.

"Where did he go?"

"He died," said Ginny simply. Draco crossed his arms over his chest and looked down. He felt like he was intruding even though it was his own daughter on Ginny's lap. Ginny looked up at him suddenly and he knew she was silently asking whether it was alright to say more—presumably about how he'd died.

He shook his head.

"How did he die?" Carina asked quietly. It sounded as though she was being told a fairytale, Draco thought, not a story about a war that had taken place under a year ago.

"I expect your dad will tell you when the time is right."

Carina looked to Draco expectantly.

"Now's not the time," he said. He and Ginny conjured another bed together and set it in the middle of the room. Draco tucked Carina in and kissed her goodnight, telling her he'd see her in the morning for Christmas.

He was about to leave the room when Ginny grabbed his arm lightly.

"I just wanted to say that I'm happy for you and Harry," she said quietly. Draco nodded stiffly.

"Thank you."

"And, as his family, I have to warn you that if you break his heart I'm obligated to make you suffer." She said this with a small smile.

Draco smirked at her and nodded.

"Point taken, Weasel."

She rolled her eyes. "You know, ferrets are part of the weasel family."

And that simple statement was more touching than anything anyone had said to Draco in a very long time, especially considering whom it was coming from. He tried with everything in him not to tear up, but it proved pointless. He wasn't sobbing, but his eyes were most definitely wet.

"Night, Malfoy," Ginny said, and closed the door on him.

Draco walked slowly down to his and Harry's room, where Harry was sitting on one of the makeshift beds Mrs. Weasley had made for them removing his socks, his shirt already on the floor. This was the only bed they'd used, though she'd intended for them both to have one. Ron had rolled his eyes at them when they'd gotten into the same bed.

"Hey, handsome," Harry said when he saw him come in. But his smile dropped when he saw Draco's somber expression and the tears in his eyes. "What's wrong?" He got up and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist. Draco shook his head.

"You were lucky to have found the Weasleys," he said quietly. Harry's eyes beamed and he kissed Draco softly.

"I know. I'm so happy you're getting along with them, Draco. But why are you crying?"

"I don't deserve this," he whispered, and his eyes shut and a tear finally leaked out. He felt Harry kiss his cheek, stopping the tear in its tracks. He let go of Draco, closed the door, and led Draco by the hand over to their bed. They both sat down on the edge.

"I don't know what else I can possibly do to make you stop thinking that way," said Harry sadly.

Draco chuckled, and yet another few tears came out.

"You don't have to do anything. I'm a Malfoy, remember? I'll take it anyway."

Harry smiled and climbed on top of him, burying his face in Draco's neck.

"I still wish you could see how amazing you are."

Draco arched his neck as Harry began kissing him gently, just enough to tease.

"Show me," he whispered, and Harry stilled, lips still attached to his neck. He pulled away after a few seconds and stared into Draco's eyes.

"How?"

Draco bit his lip and leaned up to kiss Harry softly, just a touch of the lips. "Fuck me," he said. Harry pushed him back down by his chest. His eyes were wide as saucers.

"Isn't that a little crude?" he asked breathlessly. Draco shrugged.

"I like to think of it as passionate."

Harry gave him a pointed look.

"Are you sure?"

"Are you gonna fuck me or not, Potter?" Draco drawled, though he couldn't hide a smile. Harry smiled back at him, though it was a bit feral and his eyes now looked hungry. He bent again and nipped at Draco's jaw, drawing forth a gasp.

"I thought you weren't ready," he mumbled, but even as he said this his hands were climbing down Draco's torso until they slipped under the hem of his shirt and began pulling it up. Draco helped him take it off and Harry threw it on the floor, moving immediately to Draco's trousers next. Draco sat up on his elbows and watched. Harry was beginning to sweat; he was nearly frantic, his fingers shaking and his breathing unsteady.

"I wasn't. Now I am." Just as he got the words out Harry managed to get the button and zipper undone and Draco lifted his hips so that they could be pulled down and off his feet, leaving him only in his boxers. From where Harry sat straddling Draco's calves he bent over and kissed Draco's inner thigh. Draco hissed and tilted his head back.

Harry then proceeded to remove Draco's pants slowly, taking the time to kiss every inch of bared skin, and then quickly and unceremoniously tugged off his own trousers and pants, his glasses landing somewhere in the pile. He dug around beneath the mattress for the small bottle of lube they'd been using to fool around when at arbitrary intervals during the day when Ron wasn't around.

Prepping Draco wasn't difficult. They'd done this before. But it felt different to Draco because this time he knew something else was coming next. Every finger Harry slipped inside of him felt like it was leading up to something more—like it was a teaser for something better. By the time Harry was easily pushing three fingers into him Draco was astounded by his own need.

"Now, Harry," he whispered, grabbing fitfully for the messy black nest in front of his face. Harry slowly removed his fingers and took Draco's legs, placing them over his broad shoulders. Then he bent over Draco and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Tell me you're sure," he said, looking back and forth between Draco's eyes.

Draco stared back, so overcome with disbelief and happiness and _love_ that he simply couldn't find the words to tell Harry exactly _how_ ready he was. There was nobody else in the world he'd have rather been with, nowhere he'd rather _be_, as crazy as that was, than with Harry at the Burrow, about to give himself over completely to this boy who was everything to him.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he told him, steadily meeting Harry's green gaze. Harry must have been slicking himself up while they'd been staring at each other, because as soon as Draco had said those words he felt the blunt head of Harry's cock pushing at his entrance. It felt so odd, but it felt so right that it was Harry. He tried to control his breathing, but it was hard. He was nervous, after all. Harry gripped Draco's calf with one hand and his thigh with the other, pushing in slowly, giving Draco time to adjust, though he looked as though he probably needed the time himself because his eyes were screwed tightly shut.  
>"You okay?" Draco laughed breathlessly. Harry's eyes shot open and he beamed at Draco.<p>

"You feel amazing," he whispered, and he kissed Draco again.

"Glad to hear i—" Draco was cut off when Harry gave a particularly sharp thrust, sending a shock of pain up his spine. His head fell back and he groaned.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly. "Okay?"

Draco merely nodded, wishing he was capable of speech so he could tell Harry that, while this was extremely painful, it was also very likely the most incredible experience of his life. He felt so full. And he loved it.

It took a few more minutes, but Harry finally pushed all the way, until his balls were resting lightly against Draco's backside. He sighed heavily and looked down at Draco. Draco swallowed thickly and took a few deep breaths of his own, getting used to the feeling. The pain was quickly fading to a dull throb, though, and he found himself wanting nothing more than for Harry to move.

"Harry." Harry brought his lips down onto Draco's so they rested together. "Fuck me," he said against Harry's lips. He felt Harry groan, and not a moment later he was pulling back out and then thrusting back in, not harshly, but he picked up the pace rather quickly.

He'd heard Harry make noises during foreplay before, of course, but somehow this was different. These were amplified a thousand times, ringing in Draco's ears as though they were in the middle of a Quidditch stadium. It made sense, too, because the feeling of having Harry inside of him, rocking into him, making such incredible noises _because of him_ was like flying—even better, perhaps. Draco dragged his nails down Harry's back and thrashed and writhed and screamed and begged and he didn't care because this was _perfect_.

Harry was saying Draco's name in his ear, whispering it like he was worshipping him.

"I love you," he whimpered as his thrusts became more erratic and he bit down particularly harshly on Draco's neck. Draco stopped making tracks in Harry's back in order to dig his nails into one spot, making Harry cry out. He could feel tears streaming down his face and he couldn't tell if they were from the pain or the pleasure—indeed, he couldn't remember if he'd been crying or not before Harry had told him he loved him. And then he couldn't keep the sentiment back any longer himself and he found himself shouting it, as though the words had been attempting to escape this whole time and finally they'd caught Draco off guard.

"I love you," he sobbed, and he felt Harry's fingers tighten on his hips. "God, I love you."

Harry shouted his orgasm not a moment later, thrusting deep into Draco's body and biting his shoulder, only partially muffling his cry of release. As soon as Draco felt Harry's come fill his body he, too, reached his climax, and he pulled Harry down into a harsh kiss.

Harry flopped down onto the bed next to Draco and reached for his wand, lazily spelling the mess away. Draco was breathing heavily, staring up at the dark ceiling, listening to his heart rate slowly come down. He felt Harry sidle up next to him and wrap his arms around Draco, pulling him close.

"Did you mean it?" he whispered after a few moments.

"Did I mean what?"

"That you love me."

Draco took a few moments before nodding. He turned to look at Harry and Harry was smiling up at him so adoringly that Draco couldn't remember for a second why he'd ever _not_wanted to admit that he loved this boy.

"I love you so much, Harry."

A clock downstairs chimed midnight and Harry smiled at him and leaned in for another kiss.

"Merry Christmas, Draco."

"Merry Christmas, Harry."

He watched as Harry closed his eyes and settled in to sleep, holding Draco against him like a teddy bear. Draco lay his head on Harry's chest and listened to his heartbeat, thinking that, just maybe, everything really was going to be okay.

**FIN**


	16. Eleven Years Later

_Quickest epilogue ever? Yes. Why? Because I simply couldn't help myself. ;)_

_A few notes: I was trying to decide whether Carina would be a third or fourth year when Teddy started Hogwarts, and finally decided on third, since her birthday is in September, and that would make her just past the deadline. So she had to wait a year!_

_I have no idea when another story will be up. I have literally a ridiculous amount of crap written, but I think I've decided on story to focus on. It's decidedly darker than these past two, so hopefully that'll go down well. Look out for it. :)_

_Oh, and I just wanted to make a point of noting that "All was well" not only had nothing to do with this story, but it was thrown out of the house and left outside in the rain._

Epilogue: Eleven Years Later

"I promise, it's not scary," Harry said gently to Teddy, who was eyeing the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten with trepidation. "Just think of it as a pretend wall—close your eyes and walk through and you won't even feel it!"

"Wanna watch me go?" Carina offered, stepping confidently up to the brick wall. Teddy nodded fervently. His hair was curly and loose, though unlike Harry's it was rather tame, and it was a nice shade of brown that he'd picked out for his first day of school. Harry patted his head and chuckled.

"There you go. Carina will show you."

Carina, in her mini skirt and ballet slippers, long blond hair trailing behind her, stepped easily through the barrier, seemingly unaware of the Muggles around them and the fact that this procedure was supposed to be discreet. Harry looked down at Teddy, who looked back up at him.

"Try to be a bit more subtle, eh?"

Teddy laughed and looked at the wall, preparing himself for what anyone would gather was a dangerous trick by the look on his face.

"Harry!" Teddy's concentration was broken by the sound of Draco's voice, who had just come up behind the two of them pushing a load of luggage.

"Oh, good, you have the bags."

Draco looked at him incredulously.

"Harry, so help me God, you will be sleeping on the _floor_ for the rest of your life if you don't take this _monstrous _pile of luggage in the next three seconds."

He'd dated Draco long enough now to know that he wasn't kidding, and so he promptly took the wheel of the cart, smirking at his long-time boyfriend as he did so, and pushed it through ahead of Teddy with a wink.

"He never learns," Draco sighed and Teddy laughed. "Well, what are you waiting for, munchkin, a formal invitation? Come on." Teddy continued to chuckle as Draco took his hand and stepped through with him, showing about as much concern for the Muggles as Carina had.

"Wow," Teddy whispered, looking around in awe.

"That's right, you've never been here before, have you?" Teddy shook his head slowly and Draco smiled. "You're gonna love it, Teddy. Hogwarts is the best place in the world."

"Draco?" Teddy said quietly, chewing on his lip. Draco looked down at him with an eyebrow raised. "What if I don't fit in? What if no one likes me?"

Draco's face softened and he kneeled down so that he was looking up at the already-tall boy. Teddy continued to chew on his lip nervously.

"There is no way," Draco whispered, idly fixing Teddy's black tie that he'd insisted on wearing, "that anyone could dislike you. You know why?" Teddy shook his head. "Because you're funny, and smart, and talented, and you can change the color of your hair at will. Who wouldn't wanna be friends with someone like that?"

Teddy snorted and leaned in to hug Draco tightly. Draco ran a hand through his hair before standing back up and leading the boy toward where Harry and Carina were standing, Harry attempting to load Carina's copious amounts of luggage onto the train.

"What do you need with all of this _anyway_?" Harry huffed after he'd finally gotten the last bit stowed away. Carina placed her hands firmly on her hips and Harry's eyebrows rose in challenge.

"I have to look good, don't I?"

Harry sighed and shook his head at her. "You could not be more like your father if you tried."

"Is that a problem, Potter?" Draco drawled, coming up next to him. "Do you _want _to sleep on the floor?"

Their would-be mock-fight was interrupted when a girl called out Carina's name.

"Oh!" Carina shouted. "That's Lacey. I gotta go. See you at Christmas!" She leaned over quickly and pecked Harry on the cheek. "Bye, Dad," she said hastily, and then moved on to Draco. "Bye, Papa."

"Behave!" Draco shouted, but it was a lost cause, as she'd already disappeared in the throng of students with her friend. "I should never have signed that permission slip for Hosmeade," he groaned.

"Oh, will you calm down?" Harry laughed. "It's Hogsmeade. What could happen?"

Draco glared at him.

"She could get hit by a snowball thrown by a disembodied head," he deadpanned. Harry winked at him and leaned in for a kiss but Draco moved away.

"I don't _think _so, Potter. Cook me an excellent dinner tonight and moisturize my entire body, and then we'll see about that."

"Oh my God," Teddy groaned. "See you guys in a few months."

"Have a good term, Teddy," Harry laughed, leaning in to give him a hug. "And don't forget to write Hermione. She was so upset she couldn't be here to see you off. Oh, and your grandma! Write her, too." Teddy nodded and smiled in spite of himself before turning around to find a compartment.

Harry and Draco stood in the station holding hands, watching as the train began to pull away and finally rounded a corner and disappeared. Harry sighed and looked at Draco, who was still watching the tracks. There was a buzz of voices around them from the numerous amounts of people, but neither really noticed.

"You know, she may be a right pain in the arse sometimes—kind of like you—but I have to remember to thank her one day."

Draco turned to look at him with his eyebrows drawn.

"What for?"

Harry leaned in and stole a kiss before Draco could pull away.

"For being that little bit of innocence we'd needed back then to bring us together."

Draco bit his lip and shook his head at Harry, though there was a very bright smile hiding underneath.

"Harry Potter, you are such a bloody Gryffindor."

Harry laughed and wrapped an arm around Draco's waist, pulling him close and kissing his cheek.

"And you love it."

Draco seemed to think about this for a second before nodding. "Yeah," he said finally, turning to meet Harry's eyes. "Yeah, I do."


	17. The Second Epilogue

_I couldn't help myself. Maybe this will make up for the time between updates? Just a little bit? No? Okay._

****After Effect****  
><em>The Second Epilogue<em>

Carina very purposefully flipped her long blond hair behind her shoulders, making sure to keep a straight face. She hoped he wouldn't notice how she'd subtly straightened her back and pushed out her boobs. Well, she hoped he'd notice, just that he wouldn't realize she'd done it on purpose!

"Miss Malfoy?"

Carina's head whipped around to find Professor Longbottom, who had just said her name, and she flushed when she saw his raised brow.

"Yes, sir?" she said, maintaining her grace and refusing to sound embarrassed. To her great satisfaction, no one in the greenhouse laughed, as they were wont to do when someone got told off.

Professor Longbottom sighed good-naturedly and rolled his eyes at her.

"Pay attention, hm? This'll be on your O.W.L.s."

"Yes, Professor."

And he was off again, explaining something or other about Snargaluff Pods. There was a mention of the Battle of Hogwarts, how they'd been used on the Death Eaters, but Carina had heard stories of the war from her fathers many times, and besides, she was much too focused on impressing a boy right now.

When the bell rang and Professor Longbottom dismissed them Carina tried to keep an eye on Blaine even as Lacey caught up to her and began gossiping away. She only zoned in on what Lacey was saying when the girl exclaimed,

"But, Carina! Blaine was staring at you all throughout class, didn't you notice?"

Carina immediately stopped in her tracks and looked around, making certain no one might have heard as they all trudged back up to the castle, and when she was completely sure spun back to Lacey. Her heart was thumping in anticipation.

"Was he really?"

Lacey grinned. "Yes! I was just trying to tell you that, but you wouldn't listen!"

Carina smirked and folded her arms. "Well, I was busy ogling him, wasn't I?" Lacey laughed. Her curly brown hair bounced around her shoulders as she walked beside Carina, seemingly without a care in the world other than boys.

"I think he likes you, honestly. Step up your flirt and he'll be yours in no time."

The two girls stepped into the castle, grateful for the refuge from the chilly December air, and headed to the Great Hall for lunch. They took their seats at the Slytherin table, though Carina spotted Blaine at Ravenclaw, laughing with his friends and looking gorgeous as always. Quite suddenly he looked over, caught her eye, and his lips lifted into a teasing half smile. Carina blushed furiously and looked away, though she couldn't keep her own smile off her face.

* * *

><p>"Oh my God, Draco, she's fifteen, it's not like this is the boy she's going to marry!"<p>

Draco spun to face him looking venomous and Harry recoiled a bit.

"I will have you know, Harry Potter, that _we_ knew each other when we were fifteen! As did Ron and Hermione and . . . and all of our _other _classmates who got married!"

Harry couldn't help smirking. He walked over to Draco and circled his waist, pulling him close. He kissed the tip of his nose and delighted in the blush it evoked.

"Stop worrying. She's already been with him since December. She obviously likes him, and he likes her. They'll date for a few more months and then teenage angst will tear them apart and she'll find another boyfriend for us to harass, and we'll continue on that way until she finally finds someone who passes what will be your no doubt rigorous tests, and then she'll get married, and we'll have grandchildren to worry about. Sound good?"

Draco grimaced. "Ugh. You won't even love me anymore when I'm old and saggy."

Harry laughed and kissed him full on the mouth. "Draco, I will love you until we both can't get out of bed anymore, in which case we'd have sex all day, and even after that."

"How will we manage sex if we can't get out of bed?"

Harry pursed his lips in apparent thought. "We'll figure something out," he said with a wink. Draco chuckled in spite of himself and looked down at his watch.

"We should get going. The train will be at the station in a few minutes and I still need to mentally prepare myself to meet this boy."

* * *

><p>Draco and Harry stood at King's Cross station, two years older than they'd been the first time they'd met Blaine, but the only thing that had changed since then was Draco's attitude.<p>

"I don't believe he hasn't proposed yet. I mean, what is he waiting for? They've just graduated, for crying out loud!"

"Draco!" Harry laughed incredulously. "They're not even nineteen!"

"I must say, I agree," Mrs. Bradford agreed, and she placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. "I've been urging him all year!"

Harry looked to Mr. Bradford, whom he'd learned had gone to school with his own parents, though only for two years, and they shared a bewildered glance.

"It's not as though they aren't arse over tits for one another," Draco said to Harry, eyeing him dully. Harry saw Mrs. Bradford blush and Mr. Bradford chuckled.

Harry had been on the verge of explaining to Draco and Mrs. Bradford that Blaine and Carina were _eighteen years old_, and that's what _happens _when children are eighteen years old, but was stopped from doing so when Hermione, Ron, George, Bill, and Fleur came through the barrier, all looking frazzled.

"Oh, we haven't missed the train!" Hermione cried, her hand jumping to her heart. "I was so afraid we'd miss Carina coming home!"

Harry glanced at his watch. "You've still got a few minutes. Calm down or your hair will never be tamed again, 'Mione."

Hermione harrumphed and Ron laughed.

"We just got a letter from Carina," Bill said, his lips positively itching to turn into an enormous grin. Draco whipped around to look at him, as did Mrs. Bradford. Bill looked a bit startled but recovered quickly enough.

"She caught Teddy and Victoire kissing on the train," Fleur informed them, smirking herself and yet, somehow, simultaneously looking disapproving.

"Romance is in the air!" George shouted. "Oh, Ginny will be so upset she couldn't be here to tease Teddy. She's been saying forever that she knew he had a crush on Victoire."

"And why was I not informed of this?" Draco snapped.

"We only just found out," Bill laughed. "I didn't even know about Ginny's suspicions."

"Speaking of romance, are Carina and Mister Ravenclaw married yet?"

Mrs. Bradford and Draco took deep breaths at the same time—presumably to begin another round of why-hasn't-Blaine-proposed-yet and that's-just-what-we-were-wondering!—but didn't quite manage because the sound of the train's engine filled the air, alerting the platform to its imminent arrival.

Hermione quickly conjured a bouquet of roses with her wand while Fleur fidgeted with the one she'd already been holding. Draco grabbed Harry's hand, tears in his eyes, and bit his lip. Harry leaned over to kiss his cheek.

When the train came to a stop and one last puff of smoke was blown, the doors opened themselves and not a moment later a throng of students began pouring out. There were shouts of greeting and excitement, cats yowling and dogs barking, and even a toad could be seen attempting freedom from its owner's hands.

The first of the Potter-Malfoy-Weasley children to be spotted was Rose, who flew into her mother's arms, nearly knocking the bouquet to the ground. Ron caught it just in time. Next was Teddy, and he went straight for Harry.

"So," George began, walking nonchalantly up to his nephew. "Have a good ride home?"

Teddy blushed furiously and looked from one pair of amused adult eyes to the other, eventually stopping on Draco, who merely raised his eyebrows and looked away.

"What do you all know?"

The moment George opened his mouth Draco cleared his throat loudly. He eyed the redhead in annoyance, but George only laughed. Victoire herself put an end to the awkward questions when she came bounding out of the train and ran up to her mother, enveloping her in a hug.

"_Where _is my daughter?" Draco moaned.

"Oh, there's Blaine!" Mrs. Bradford cried. "Carina surely isn't far behind."

And she was right—the second Blaine's feet touched the platform he turned and extended his hand into the train, helping Carina out and kissing her cheek when she was firmly planted.

"Oi! Graduates!" Ron shouted, and both teens looked over, smiling delightedly when they saw their families together. Carina took Blaine's hand and ran over, ploughing into Harry and hugging him tightly. Harry laughed and ran a hand through her hair.

"Congratulations, darling," he whispered. "I'm so proud of you."

Draco cut in then, pulling his daughter into a tight hug and nuzzling the top of her head.

"Congrats, dear!" Hermione shouted, and so began the game of passing Carina around the circle, until she stopped at her Uncle George, who kissed her cheek and allowed a tear to trail down his face.

"You're a trouble-maker, you know that?" he said. Carina smiled brightly up at him. "Freddie would've been proud."

Ron pulled his brother into a one-armed hugged and nodded his agreement.

"Oh, you look beautiful, darling," Mrs. Bradford cooed, finally having joined their circle. Carina blushed. "Blaine, I can't _imagine_what you're waiting for."

"Mum!" Blaine shouted, harassed. Ron stifled a laugh while Harry outright chuckled. Draco clicked his tongue in disapproval.

"She's right, you know," he said. "Your mother and I would just like to know how much longer we'll be made to wait before we can start planning a wedding."

Curiously, Blaine colored while Carina moved her left arm behind her back.

"Actually," she said, and Harry's heart leapt into his throat.

"Oh no . . ." Bill whispered.

"Oh, yes!" Fleur exclaimed. "Oh, Carina, really?"

The girl held out her hand to display a shining diamond ring that none of them had noticed in the frenzy of the greeting. Draco snatched her hand up immediately, his eyes wide with excitement, and examined the ring.

"It's gorgeous!" he concluded.

"Oh my goodness," Mrs. Bradford gasped. "Oh, dear me, we have to begin immediately! Mr. Malfoy! Draco! Quick, we'll retire to my sitting room and start this evening. There's no time to lose!"

"You're absolutely right!" Draco kissed each child once more before grabbing Mrs. Bradford's hand and apparating away with her. The remaining adults glanced at each other in amusement and bewilderment.

"I hope you've always dreamed of an enormous wedding," Mr. Bradford said to Carina with a light smile. "Because it's what you're going to get."

"Are you kidding?" Harry answered for her. "She's Draco Malfoy's child. She wouldn't settle for anything less." He looked to Blaine. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into. She reverts to a French accent when she's yelling."

Carina rolled her eyes while Blaine laughed. The Weasleys and the Bradfords began making their way to the station exit, but Blaine called Harry over before he could join them.

"What's up, Blaine?"

"Mr. Potter . . . at school, when everyone found out Carina and I were engaged, I got a bit of trouble from some people for choosing to marry a Malfoy." He must have seen Harry's anger because he hurried on, "You're the only other person in the world married to one, and I know she's like her father in a lot of ways, so . . . is it that difficult? I know you're biased because you've been her father for a long time, but you're still closer to my position than Mr. Malfoy."

Harry's anger fled and he smiled, patting the boy on the shoulder. "They're tough, Blaine," he laughed. "But you know what?" He leaned in conspiratorially, as though he was about to divulge a great secret. "The two of us are the luckiest guys in the world. Because no matter how hard you look, you will _never_ find someone quite as strangely perfect as a Malfoy."


End file.
